Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Smoke to the nothing ❯ Aya Fujimiya; Smoke to the nothing ( Chapter 1 )

 

Hi! I'm an italian girl, and this is the first `english' fanfiction I ever published… I hope it will be understandable…. If you can find some minute to review this, I would be very happy, also because I would like to have some opinions about my grammar… Thanks!

 

Pairing- YohjixAya (and maybe some hints to ChloexAya)

Disclaimer- I don't own these characters… I hate disclaimers, I never learnt to write them…

Note- This fic set during Side B. I'm still watching Ghluen, so I don't know really what happens in the last episodes, but I read enough fictions to get an idea. However, some fictions inspired me… first of all the wanderful Omni-sama's `Are you steady now'… whose I steal the idea of a smoking Aya! Sorry Omni-sama, but he was too beautiful with a cigarette in his hands…

 

Aya Fujimia- Smoke to the nothing

 

I smoke.

Smoking isn't an Aya-thing to do, however. I didn't smoke two years ago.

I smoke, gazing at the sky.

I was a fool, coming here of all the places. It would be better to leave the cimitery. I already did what I had to do.

Aya… I didn't think saying her goodbye would be like this. I didn't know leaving her behind would be like this. I did think it would killed me, I did think it would scattered me. I did think I would never collect myself.

But… signig those documents, looking at the switching off of the monitors which kept her alive, which breathed air in her lungs.. looking at her chest, motionless, and no seeing a change on her smooth face, no seeing anything of different from the first evening…

I sobbed. I sobbed a sob that was not a sob of sorrow, neither of rage nor of distress, nor of sadness. A sob that sounded like a dying cry.

I never cry, for Aya. I learned to never cry for my loved ones.

After the sob, tiredness came.

I was alone.

For the fist time, the first time in my life, I was really alone.

Ken, was in jail. Omi, was too occupied with his messed life, his confused identities, to notice my wreck.

Yohji…. Yohji was no there for me. Yohji would never been there for me again.

And Aya. My beautiful imoto, my precious Aya, Aya didn't breath anymore.

I was tired.

But, I was also finally free. And even if freedom scared me, I know I had to face it.

I take a drag on my cigarette.

Freedom…

I didn't want to be free.

I wanted… I wanted someone shut me up in my house, I wanted they never allow me to go away, I wanted someone nailed me to my bed, teaching me a new significance of possession…

Damn. I wanted him.

I breath out.

I brought Aya a crhysantemum. She always loved these flowers. She thought them alive.

I did bring no flower for Yohji. Which I could bring him? An orchid? Absurd. Pathetic.

A cigarette is better. I can smoke in front of his tomb, and he would be happy.

Yeah. He would be happy, if he just was here…

I'm smoking his brand of cigarettes. I usually don't smoke them- I never liked the taste- but... but sometimes I buy a packet of them, to breath their smell. To live their memories.

So, Melancholy can bite me more deeply.

I crush the stub under my boot, and I slip my hands in my pockets. I blow away a lock of my hair.

When I first cut them, I decided to never let them grow again.

Now, they don't reach my ass anymore.

Yohji loved my long air. He loved how they brushed his things, when I sat on his lap and…

I shake my head, and I look my watch: it's late. My date with Mamoru will begin in few hours.

I hope he won't show. I don't want to see him, today.

Because everytime I smoke in front of his tomb, I remember our times. I relive our lives.

And I really rather not to see his obvlius face- his beautiful, smiling face- when I still mourn his ghost's death.

Yohji Kudoh. I don't say goodbye, while I go away. I don't say anything.

Any word would be useless.

The sky, already know what I feel. And people really don't need to know that.

 

I enter in Mamoru's office without knocking. This is a rare honour, and everybody know this.

I also know everybody thinks to guess the way I gained it. Maybe, Yohji is the only one to never tease me about that.

Yohji. Ryo, it's a better way to call him.

Sometimes, I need to remember myself that.

However, I'm not upset by their accuse. They amuse me. Fucking Omi- or to be fucked by him- just the idea give me the creeps.

Mr Takatori sits behind his desk. He's spoking on his telephone, and when he glance at me, he doesn't smile. What's the matter, Omi?

I sit down, looking at him.

-Fine. Keep me informed. Yes, I will tell him it. Fine. Be careful.

He cuts off, sighing. He's tired. More tired than usual.

What's the matter?

-There had been some problems, in London.

I shiver. I can't speak any word.

-Michel was wounded.

I pale. He reaches for my hand -Don't worry, Aya. He is fine. But you had to change your operation plan. It may be more dangerous than…

-Yeah.- I'm cold. My voice is strangely quiet. -They finisched their mission?

He nods. I control my instinct of catch the mobile and call Chloe, to hear him say it's all right.

I concentrate on the reason for I was not there, instead, the reason for I left them alone.

The damned reason for I was not at their side to defend them. To defend Michel.

Kami. If something befall the child…

-Aya, do you read the report I sent to you?

I reach for his copy. I look through the pages, nodding. -Can you tell me, Persia, why do you need me? I'm not in Weiss anymore, you know that.

-We need a man in Europe. You are the most qualified. I spoke to Kripton, we will carry out this together. I can provide you with every agent…

-It wont be necessary.

We keep silent. I need a cigarette.

I sigh. -Why do you call me, Omi?

He lowers his eyes. -I wanted… I wanted to know how are you. I want to be sure you're…

-I'm what, Omi?

-You are fine.

He looks at me. He smiles. Our Omi has grown up. Mamoru is a wise, cautius man. But. He still know me better than anyone.

Almost.

-Are you happy, in London?

I shrug. -What can I say, Omi? I'm fine. I'm alive. I send flowers. Sometimes, I kill people. Sometimes, I laugh. I laugh frequently, actually. I…

-You miss him, don't you?

I look out of the window. -How is he?

-He's fine.

-Great.

And that's all. I don't let him say more. I don't want to know more.

I don't want to know if he has remembered something… I don't want know if he has dreamed something… or someone.

I don't want to know if he remember me. If he remember Aya.

I don't wanto to know if…

I don't want to know. Period.

I stand up.

-When will you came back to London?

-My air will take off tomorrow. Will you came to see us, one day?

He shrugs, sadly -Maybe.

I nod, reaching the door. His hand on my shoulder stops me. -Wait… Aya.

I turn around. I look him. His hands go to my waist. They are the hands of a brother, the hand of a kid whi died long time ago. The hands of the child whose chains I cut, the child I give his freedom from a name he hated. A name he now has accepted, owned, defended, a name he has redeemed. A name marks him, and strangely doesn't set fire my veins anymore.

Takatori means Omi, now. Takatori means long forgotten nightmares, long forgotten sorrows.

Takatori…

He tuck his head under my chin. I let him rock me, just a moment.

Then, we move away. I don't raise my gaze, leaving his office.

He doesn't raise his one, coming back to his desk.

 

Soooo… how it was? I know my english is not very good, but do you understand anything? However, I wanted to tell you Weiss Kreuz fan writers… I love you! Thanks for your wonderful fics! Bye bye…