Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ The Hits Keep Coming ❯ Chapter 10
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
Umm...sharp left turn ahead. I let my muse take the wheel, and it seems she's in an odd mood.
******
Getting out of bed, Yohji reflected, staring at the uneven patch of lighter dark far above. Getting out of bed this morning—afternoon—had been his first mistake.
Or maybe it was getting out yesterday, that had been the first mistake.
Hell, his first mistake probably went back a lot farther than that.
“get...” breathed a faint voice that probably would have liked to be snarling, “off...”
Well, that explained why hitting bottom hadn't hurt that much. Aya was under him.
Aya!
“Meep!”
Shimatta, that thing—
“mmrfle fmrph!” Aya said, reminding Yohji he hadn't moved yet. And that the thing really liked the redhead. Not that he could blame it, really, if he could get away with jumping all over—
“K'so!” Yohji jumped and tripped and fell, further abusing his katana-poked behind. “You didn't have to—“ Shit. He douldn't see a damn thing, and in his jumping and stumbling he'd lost the—very slightly—lighter patch of darkness, and the redhead who apparently did not glow in the dark after all. “Aya?”
“Balinese,” came that rich voice, “Make. A. Light.”
Che, he was still talking like that. All night long, every damn time he spoke, it had been like that. Two hours of wandering that damn building that kept changing, looking for the target they should have had in ten minutes. Two hours of “Move. Your. Hand.” “No. Smoking.” “Get. Off.” “Shi. Ne.”
Maybe Aya didn't like him after all.
Maybe he really wasn't up to mission speed again yet. Omi had said he would be easily distracted—
“Balineemmmfff!”
Yohji was starting to envy that little fluffball thing.
“Light!”
Right. Okay. Umm...flashlight. Nope, dropped it. Teeny-tiny maplight—landed on it. Umm...light was about the only thing his watch didn't have, what else—
“You smoke, you stupid bastard!”
Wait, Aya was telling him to smoke? Oh. Oh, shit, he really was messed up...Yohji fumbled out his lighter and flicked it. Pulled off his new, not-broken-in-yet gloves and tried again. Flame flared, two sets of glittering eyes glared at him. So the thing had eyes as well as the mouth that went—
“Meep!”
The redhead shifted his grip holding the thing away, and wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand. Then coughed up some fur.
“What is it?”
“All I know is, it likes you.” Which was surprising, considering it had been Abyssinian who poked it, woke it, whatever. The thing had just been lying there on the floor being fluffy, before Aya wondered what it was, and prodded it to find out. “Does it even have legs?” He hadn't seen any, but it had leaped straight for Aya's face. Which had led to Yohji trying to help get it off, and somehow tangling his legs with Aya's, and they'd both fallen—somewhere.
A long somewhere. Yohji had counted seconds as cool moist air rushed past, and he'd been certain they had two options—landing on something hugely soft, or dying.
Fujimiya Aya could not, by any stretch of the imagination, be called “soft.” And the redhead himself had landed on solid rock. So why were they still alive? And not even hurting that much?
“Meep!”
Aya glared at the fluffball, which somehow exuded adoring kawai-ness back, and adjusted his headset.
“Bombay, Abyssinian.”
Nothing, not even white noise when Yohji turned his earpiece all the way up.
“Bombay, Abyssinian. Respond.”
“K'so! Ow!” Yohji dropped the lighter and stuck his burnt fingers in his mouth.
Oh hell.
“Balinese,” that rich voice said, “Find. It.”
Shit, back to that. Yohji sighed and groped carefully, years of experience at drunken fumbling helping him to hopefully not knock it anywhere harder to get than it already was. “Ha!”
“Meep!”
Yohji clenched the lighter and tried to think of a better way than burning his fingers and his fluid.
“Meep-meep!”
“Gah—mmmrrff! ”
“Aya?” Shit, the floor, air rushing— “Oh, shit, Aaayyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
*********
I have no clue. Really. Guess we'll find out together. Review, please, I hate writing for a void. I am not a selfless artiste, I am a scribbler who hopes to entertain and maybe touch, and I want to hear if I manage it.
******
Getting out of bed, Yohji reflected, staring at the uneven patch of lighter dark far above. Getting out of bed this morning—afternoon—had been his first mistake.
Or maybe it was getting out yesterday, that had been the first mistake.
Hell, his first mistake probably went back a lot farther than that.
“get...” breathed a faint voice that probably would have liked to be snarling, “off...”
Well, that explained why hitting bottom hadn't hurt that much. Aya was under him.
Aya!
“Meep!”
Shimatta, that thing—
“mmrfle fmrph!” Aya said, reminding Yohji he hadn't moved yet. And that the thing really liked the redhead. Not that he could blame it, really, if he could get away with jumping all over—
“K'so!” Yohji jumped and tripped and fell, further abusing his katana-poked behind. “You didn't have to—“ Shit. He douldn't see a damn thing, and in his jumping and stumbling he'd lost the—very slightly—lighter patch of darkness, and the redhead who apparently did not glow in the dark after all. “Aya?”
“Balinese,” came that rich voice, “Make. A. Light.”
Che, he was still talking like that. All night long, every damn time he spoke, it had been like that. Two hours of wandering that damn building that kept changing, looking for the target they should have had in ten minutes. Two hours of “Move. Your. Hand.” “No. Smoking.” “Get. Off.” “Shi. Ne.”
Maybe Aya didn't like him after all.
Maybe he really wasn't up to mission speed again yet. Omi had said he would be easily distracted—
“Balineemmmfff!”
Yohji was starting to envy that little fluffball thing.
“Light!”
Right. Okay. Umm...flashlight. Nope, dropped it. Teeny-tiny maplight—landed on it. Umm...light was about the only thing his watch didn't have, what else—
“You smoke, you stupid bastard!”
Wait, Aya was telling him to smoke? Oh. Oh, shit, he really was messed up...Yohji fumbled out his lighter and flicked it. Pulled off his new, not-broken-in-yet gloves and tried again. Flame flared, two sets of glittering eyes glared at him. So the thing had eyes as well as the mouth that went—
“Meep!”
The redhead shifted his grip holding the thing away, and wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand. Then coughed up some fur.
“What is it?”
“All I know is, it likes you.” Which was surprising, considering it had been Abyssinian who poked it, woke it, whatever. The thing had just been lying there on the floor being fluffy, before Aya wondered what it was, and prodded it to find out. “Does it even have legs?” He hadn't seen any, but it had leaped straight for Aya's face. Which had led to Yohji trying to help get it off, and somehow tangling his legs with Aya's, and they'd both fallen—somewhere.
A long somewhere. Yohji had counted seconds as cool moist air rushed past, and he'd been certain they had two options—landing on something hugely soft, or dying.
Fujimiya Aya could not, by any stretch of the imagination, be called “soft.” And the redhead himself had landed on solid rock. So why were they still alive? And not even hurting that much?
“Meep!”
Aya glared at the fluffball, which somehow exuded adoring kawai-ness back, and adjusted his headset.
“Bombay, Abyssinian.”
Nothing, not even white noise when Yohji turned his earpiece all the way up.
“Bombay, Abyssinian. Respond.”
“K'so! Ow!” Yohji dropped the lighter and stuck his burnt fingers in his mouth.
Oh hell.
“Balinese,” that rich voice said, “Find. It.”
Shit, back to that. Yohji sighed and groped carefully, years of experience at drunken fumbling helping him to hopefully not knock it anywhere harder to get than it already was. “Ha!”
“Meep!”
Yohji clenched the lighter and tried to think of a better way than burning his fingers and his fluid.
“Meep-meep!”
“Gah—mmmrrff! ”
“Aya?” Shit, the floor, air rushing— “Oh, shit, Aaayyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
*********
I have no clue. Really. Guess we'll find out together. Review, please, I hate writing for a void. I am not a selfless artiste, I am a scribbler who hopes to entertain and maybe touch, and I want to hear if I manage it.