Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Roses ❯ Part 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Well, I'm still here. Thanks again Princess Yuy and charis for reviewing. I have a total of two fans. Halleluiah. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as you did the others. In my opinion, this part seems kind of boring, but hopefully the others will make up for it.

^^^

Lena woke up at six-thirty a.m. to the same annoying pop music that had awakened her the morning before. She pulled on her bathrobe to make the habitual trek to the restroom, but paused when the cozy warmth of the steam-filled room roused her a bit from the fogged haze her mind was still floating in. The sound of the shower, already running and obviously hot, didn't fit with her normal agenda. No one else was in the room, or even awake, so she hadn't inadvertently barged in on someone. The door had been open and the light had been off.

A splash of color on the white marble of the sink caught her eye. Resting on the clean surface, in perfect bloom, was a crimson rose. No other sign of communication or explanation was offered. She could think of only one explanation, but it only covered half of the questions racing through her mind, and raised three times as many others. It was her birthday, and this seemed to be a sort of present for the occasion . . . but no one //knew// it was her birthday!

The steam seemed to lure her over to the splashing of water, and she could only obey its beckoning. Her pajamas were shed and deposited in a neatly folded pile on the surface beside the rose before she slid under the massaging spray of water.

Once beneath the gentle play of the shower, she let her mind wonder over the possibilities for who could be behind the nice gesture. It could only be one of the four men she was living with, because no one else even knew her full, real name, let alone her birthday and morning routine. They were all capable of finding the superficial information about her easily enough from certain sources, and they were all familiar with her typical waking-up ritual. So who had woken at the earlier hour to start her shower for her and leave the rose?

Yohji was the obvious answer, except that of all the men, he was the least likely to get up before ten for any reason short of a war. And even //then// he would have complained until at least noon. So it wasn't him, even if it was more or less his style. Though he was more fond of being recognized for his work. A poem or something would have been left in obvious view if he'd been behind it.

Ken was fond of her like an older brother and might have done it for her. The rose was a bit much, but it was a possibility . . . until one considered the type of person he was. Ken never pried into anyone's business unless the invitation was obvious. He respected everyone's privacy--except his targets'--and never even showed any interest in gossip. The last thing she could see him doing was invading her privacy by snooping around for personal information about her, such as her birthday.

Omi was both compassionate and unpredictable enough to bestow such a gift. He had the resources to discover her birthday in a matter of seconds on his computer, and would be willing to get up at the early hour to give it to her. One had only to overlook the fact that he'd never gotten home last night from his meeting with Weiss, which meant it had run late and he'd stayed the night in a motel room on the other side of town.

And then there was Aya . . . HAH!

Aya was more likely to announce he was Santa Clause than to show her any sort of courtesy. Sure, he'd done the unimaginable and said thanks as she was leaving the store the night before, but there was a bit of a gap on the scale of kindness between thanking someone and giving them a birthday gift that involved at least a little thought, money, and lack of sleep. It was the last sacrifice that made it blatantly obvious--even more so than all the other evidence against him--that it wasn't him. Aya didn't give up sleep for anyone. Not Weiss, not his sister--the only person he was humane towards--and not //her//. (1)

So who the hell had done it?!

She cut off the water and dried off quickly, her thoughts blinding her to her surroundings. It wasn't until she reached for her bathrobe that she realized a few more mysterious gifts had been left for her. The pile of her folded pajamas had been removed, as well as her blue bathrobe. In their places was her favorite weekend outfit for the colder months of the year and her worn hair brush with an elastic band sitting next to it. Another red rose, just as perfect as the last, was lying on top of the folded clothes.

She moved it to lie beside its partner and began dressing, all the while pondering the mystery of her secret gift-bearer. No further conclusions were reached as she pulled on the baggy, black, cotton pants that hung low on her hips, secured with the thin drawstring. The matching long-sleeved shirt was thick enough to keep her warm, but thin enough to not be considered a sweater.

If there was one gift she would have picked over all others, it was a day with someone else taking care of her hair. Sometimes she seriously considered hacking the lot of it off, but she never would. It had become a part of her, and she would sooner hack off a finger than the long ebony locks. It was a shame her mystery-man couldn't give her that gift.

Wrapped in the comfortable clothes with her hair pulled back in a simple--damp--pony-tail, she leisurely descended the stairs to see what else awaited her.

She wasn't disappointed. A mug of steaming coffee, pale with cream, waited for her in her usual spot. The newspaper was neatly separated into two piles: the sections that she read, and the sections that the others would want when they got up. To her delight, it was also stacked in the order she preferred with the main section on top and the comics on bottom. But it was the meal that captured her attention. She usually skipped breakfast on weekdays, other than a few cups of coffee, but every Saturday she fixed herself half a dozen pancakes, four slices of bacon, and two scrambled eggs. Not one person had ever seen her do this, and yet there it was, along with the fragrant red rose that lay delicately over the paper.

She set all three flowers to the side, careful that they weren't damaged in any way, and took up her fork as she unfolded the first section of the paper. The first bite of syrup-drowned pancakes was better than anything she'd cooked before. The first fork-full of fluffy eggs was the perfect texture without any added seasonings to ruin the flavor, and the first bite of bacon, crisp but not crumbly, was enough to make up for the absence of her mystery gift-bearer when she wanted someone to brush out her hair.

And then there was the coffee. She'd tasted Ken's coffee before, and this wasn't it. Any lingering doubts about him being the rose-giver were vaporized with the first timid sip. Whoever had made this brew was a genius. Not only had the cream been added to her liking, but underlying flavors of vanilla and cinnamon left faint aftertastes that made her long for the next swallow.

At eight, she was just finishing the last of her fourth mug of coffee and had pretty much completed the crossword. The front door's trademark rattling brought her attention to the man that walked in to collapse in the chair across from her. Omi was only two years older than her, but had been titled the leader of their faction for his skills with hacking and natural commanding aura. They followed him almost without question.

At the moment, he looked as if a kitten could have dominated him. His light brown hair, which was nearly blond, stuck up in erratic spikes that had probably started out as a decent style, but after a few hours had been reduced to the mess it was now. His pale blue eyes were a bit bloodshot, and the golden tan of his skin had paled a little with exhaustion. Nevertheless, he flashed a brilliant smile that she couldn't help but return. (2)

"Hey, Lena, how's it going?"

"Fine, how was the meeting?" She stood to pour him a mug of the last bit of coffee . . . and froze. The pot was full. Somehow the person had snuck in while she'd been doing the crossword and had brewed another batch. But from the smell, she knew it wasn't the same stuff that had been made for her. It was simple coffee made with the grinds she usually used with no extra flavoring. Well, Omi wouldn't mind.

When she was seated again, and the man was a little more awake, he answered her question. "Ran late so I got a room at one of the inns down there. Figured I'd get off early so I could take my shift at the bookstore. Just normal stuff and a list of new missions that can wait a day." His blue eyes flicked to the three roses still lying beside her on the table before looking back to her questioningly. "Flowers?"

She smiled, feeling her face blush a little. She almost wanted to keep the little gifts a secret, but if she told Omi, maybe he could help her figure it out. "You won't believe this, but someone's been running around all morning doing my routine for me. I woke up to find the shower on and already heated up. After my bath, my pajamas had vanished and these clothes had been left instead. Then I came downstairs to find the coffee made and my newspaper laid out. And with every present I get a rose." She saw no reason to mention that the outfit laid out for her was her favorite outfit, nor that there had been a meal involved with the final event.

Omi looked more than a little interested. "Really? Well who's doing it? Why are they doing it?" He'd leaned forward, eager to solve the mystery. Even with all the intrigue going on in their everyday lives, this little bit of anonymity was new and therefore deserved some attention.

"I have no idea who's doing it, but I do know why." She paused, not wanting to tell him and possibly trigger an idea for a party or celebration of some sort. "Don't make a big deal out of it, but today's my birthday."

"Hey, Happy Birthday! Eighteen, huh? So who knew it was today?"

"Well, I didn't tell anyone, but any of you guys could have figured it out easily enough. Yohji seems like the most likely, except that he's never gotten up before ten for anything! You were gone this morning when it began, or I would have suspected you. And Ken would have done something like this, but he would never have snooped around to find out when my birthday was."

"And Aya?" To her surprise, his tone was completely serious.

"What about him?"

"Well, he likes to know everything about everyone, so he'd know when your birthday was. But I guess he's not really the type to leave you roses." He had made it sound like Aya was actually a possibility. That iceberg of a man wouldn't have left flowers on his own mother's grave!

"What about someone from school? Or the bookstore? You've got a bunch of admirers from work," he suggested, but she shook her head immediately.

"None of them even know my real surname. They couldn't have had the information on me."

Omi sighed and settled back to sip at his coffee. "I don't know. This is weird. Maybe he'll reveal himself at the end of the day."

She hoped he would. This man knew the littlest details about her, which she hadn't revealed to anyone. He knew exactly what the perfect gift would be, and he was giving it to her. Girls at school had //boyfriends// that didn't do half of what this anonymous person was doing for her. And the little romantic in her was dying to see which man in her life could be so considerate.

Aya's sister is the biggest alteration I made from the series, as far as my knowledge extends. I'm well aware that his sister's name is Aya and that his is really Ran. I'm also aware that she's in a coma of some sort. Well, you're going to have to forget about that. Aya needed a confidant, and so I miraculously cured his sister and gave her a name change. Just a warning.

I should probably apologize for the shitty job I'm doing on the descriptions. I known what Yohji and Aya look like because they're my favorite characters, but Omi and Ken are pretty much a mystery. And I'm too lazy to go look them up. So, sorry for the mistakes on the descriptions.

^^^

TBC

Let's all pretend I say a ridiculously witty comment right here about the importance of the review button so that I don't really have to sit here and think one up. Thanks.