Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ The Rain Doesn't Grieve ❯ 17 ( Chapter 17 )

17

 

There are no flowers, no, not this time.

 

Omi ~ Messenger

 

I let the phone ring several times, torn between wanting him to pick up and hoping he wasn't home.

 

“Hai?” The voice sounded terribly distant.

 

“Aya-kun?” The name stuck in my throat.

 

For a moment I thought he'd hung up. Then, “Omi?”

 

Relief flooded me, surprising in its strength. “Yes, it's me. How are you doing, Aya? It's been a long time.”

 

“Yes, it has.”

 

This was more awkward than I'd expected. His voice was just as powerful, just as soothing as always, but the silences seemed deeper. I swallowed. “Things are a little strained here,” I said, hoping he'd catch the undertone as fast as Yohji had. “Had a falling out with some old friends. Just needed to say hi to the ones who haven't left yet, I guess.”

 

There was another pause, this one longer than the last. “I see. Anyone I know?”

 

“I don't think you met.”

 

“That's a good thing, then.”

 

“Yes, it would be. Hey, Aya? I need to ask a favor of you,” I said, not at all sure how he would react to my request. But he was the only one I could ask to do it.

 

His voice sounded frosty as he said, “Go on.”

 

“Ken-kun is coming back from hospital in a few days, and I need to find him a place to stay for a while. Do you have room in your apartment for a roommate, just until he's back on his feet?” I held my breath, hoping the answer would be yes. I wanted to put them back together for Weiß, if Ken could handle it. In any case, I didn't want Ken off on his own. It seemed awful of me to think this, but I couldn't help wanting someone to just watch over him. The Swiss doctors were optimistic, even encouraging, but head wounds could have unexpected long-term effects, and Ken was my best friend. I wanted him to be safe, and there were few places I could think of that would be safer than under Aya's wing.

 

“Are you asking for yourself, or for someone else?”

 

The question hurt - I understood exactly what he meant by it, and my eyes stung at his words. “For myself, Aya-kun. He's your friend too, na?”

 

“Hn. I suppose. I have room. When is he coming?”

 

“Afternoon four days from now. I can bring him from the airport,” I offered, wanting to see both of them again, even under these circumstances.

 

“I'll pick him up.”

 

The breath sighed from my chest without a sound. I stared at the phone for several seconds. “All right, I'll make sure you have his flight information, Aya.”

 

“How's your new job?” he asked, stressing the last two words ever so slightly.

 

“It's fine,” I whispered. “Aside from the in-fighting, and office politics, of course.”

 

For a few moments neither of us said anything. The words I wanted to say died in my mouth. I didn't even wonder what Aya was thinking anymore.

 

“Omi?”

 

Not Mamoru, not Takatori; just Omi. Hope flared in me, an impossible hope that maybe he would be just Aya again, too. “Hai, Aya-kun?”

 

I could hear his sigh. “Nothing. Never mind. I have to go. It was good to hear from you.”

 

“Thank you, Aya-kun. Maybe we can all get together for lunch or something, after Ken gets settled in.” More than ever, I wanted to see them both, and Yohji. But especially I wanted to see Aya, cold, beautiful, harsh Aya with his piercing eyes to match the edge of his katana.

 

“Hn. Maybe.”

 

The phone fell silent. I stared at it, not quite willing to set it down just yet. Why couldn't I just tell Aya how I felt? How long would I keep it to myself?

 

“Takatori,” I reminded myself aloud. I couldn't bear to confess my feelings to a man who would probably just throw them right back in my face, all for the sins of my father. Sins I could not make clean. “Damn it.”

 

I looked up the number for the hospital in Switzerland and dialed. Ken had always managed to cheer my worst moods before, maybe he could work his magic over the telephone.

 

I asked the switchboard to put me through to his room, and then I waited, my hands unaccountably sweaty.

 

An achingly familiar voice came over the line. “Moshi moshi!”

 

“Ken-kun, hello! It's me!” I paused, caught between worlds. “It's Omi-kun.”

 

 

Ken ~ Kuma

 

“Omi! Man, it's great to hear from you!” I hooked my fingers into the little hole at the back of the desk phone and picked it up, carrying it with me as I paced around the room. “How's everybody doing? How's -”

 

“Ken-kun,” Omi broke in, sounding kind of stressed, “it's a long story. Better save that one for when you're here in person. I've got a place set up for you and everything.” He paused, almost like he was debating telling me any more. “You can stay with Aya-kun until you're settled in. I know it'll take a while for you to get used to things again, I wanted you to have familiar surroundings as much as possible.”

 

“Staying with Aya? What did I ever do to you, Omi? I thought we were friends,” I teased. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of shacking up with the brooding swordsman, but it was better than being all alone. I'd had enough of that for a lifetime.

 

Soft laughter floated over the receiver, though it sounded kind of mixed with something other than humor. “Ken-kun, it won't be that bad. It's not like he's your keeper or anything.”

 

“Yeah, I know. I'm just messin' with you, Omi-kun! It's been too long since I've seen any of you guys. It's been, what, nearly seven weeks? Damn!” I had trouble filling in those weeks, but the calendar showed that it was already early June, and I knew we'd been fighting in early April. Even I could do the math.

 

“It'll be good to see you again, Ken-kun,” Omi breathed, still sounding like he was on the verge of some kind of emotional meltdown. “I'll visit after you get moved in, all right?”

 

“What about the airport?” I asked, my hope that he'd be there with the others to greet me off the plane fading away quickly.

 

“I'm sorry, I can't make it,” Omi lied, “but Aya will be there to pick you up. I'm so sorry, Ken-kun, please understand.”

 

Why would Omi lie about that? “Omi, is everything all right? What's going on?”

 

“Long story, like I said,” he replied. “I'll explain later, okay?”

 

I nodded, then remembered I was talking to him on the phone. “Right, okay. You'll owe me. Oh, hey, can I have Yohji's number? I wanna let him know I'm all right.” I scrambled for pen and paper as Omi started rattling off digits.

 

I hung up the phone, then retraced my path around the chair to try to untangle the cord. Maybe Yohji would know what was really going on, and maybe I could get him to talk to me about it. Omi wasn't telling me something, something important. I guessed that Aya was an acting operative again, and Omi probably wanted me back on board too. That made sense; if he wanted to partner me with Aya of course he'd want us under the same roof.

 

My imagination kicked into gear, and I grinned. Active duty again, the heavy gauntlets weighing down my hands, the swordsman at my side as we hunted down the lowest of the low and brought them swift justice… The muscles in my arms jumped as if anticipating the blow. On impulse, I punched the chair.

 

The thrill of the impact made me crave more. My body hungered for this in a way I barely remembered.

 

I hit the chair again. And again.

 

Joy surged through me. I felt light, and strong, and…good. Damn, I felt good! My muscles tensed and flexed from my fists up my arms and into my shoulders, then down my back and through my legs to where my bare feet braced against the cool flooring. When the chair slid out of easy reach, I punched air, then changed my movement to mirror the strike of the bagh nakh: in, and up.

 

I could almost feel the weight upon the claws.

 

 

Ran ~ Stone

 

The phone was a dead weight in my hand. For some reason I couldn't bring myself to set it down.

 

Why?

 

Why couldn't I just say it, for pity's sake?

 

Three little words. That's all it would take, to change the course of my life, and his, forever.

 

Three words that seemed to be covered with barbs: they wouldn't clear my throat without pain, without tearing something of me in their passing.

 

Hypocrite.

 

I'm supposed to judge men on their actions, not on the actions of their ancestors. This was the twenty-first century, not the sixteenth; why couldn't I let it go? It wasn't Omi's fault that he was related to that snake. Why must I hold that against him, even now?

 

No, it wasn't that simple. It never is.

 

Takatori or no, he must be Persia. Even I could sense the tang of war in the air, that bitter scent that called to crows. Something was very wrong, and we stood at the center of it, just as we had stood at that damned tower.

 

Though my heart begged me to be gentle, I could not heed it. I had shed my gentle heart when I gave my sister back her name. Aya no longer, I must be Fujimiya Ran once more. No longer the hidden heart of a woman, but the heart of a warrior through and through. I must fight, so that others may know peace. It is the way of things.

 

Why couldn't I correct him when he kept calling me “Aya”?

 

My eyes closed against the day. A kaleidoscope of memories tumbled behind the lids, moments against a backdrop of crimson. Battles we had fought, and won, or lost. Meals we had shared. Times when I should have spoken but remained silent as stone. Opportunities passed and gone.

 

Three words to change two lives.

 

I forgive you.

 

With a yell I hurled the phone at the wall and watched as the tiny messenger shattered into a thousand pieces.

 

 

 

A/N:

There are no flowers, no, not this time.

“This Time Imperfect” - AFI Sing the Sorrow

 

Omi ~ Messenger

The idea of shooting the bearer of unwelcome news is an old one.

 

Ken ~ Kuma

`Kuma' is Japanese for `bear', a strong and unpredictable wild animal with a tendency to maul with its front claws. It does not kill for the joy of it.

 

Ken…is not a bear.

 

Ran ~ Stone

Hard, unmoving, often possessed of very sharp edges. His logic and his honor have backed him into this corner.

 

And no, the last line is no accident.

 

 

Special Note:

 

I'm putting this note with all my fics; the one for “Standing Outside the Fire” is a little different, so if you're reading that story, please read that note as well. If you've seen this note with “Rain”, you can skip it here.

 

Hey, all, just wanted to give you the heads-up about the BIG MOVE to my livejournal (guiltyred_fics). I'm reposting ALL of the “Cross of Changes” arc over there, including this story. When I'm all caught up, I will be posting subsequent chapters ONLY at my livejournal and my website! I will give you plenty of notice before pulling the plug here, as I want all of you to continue reading in the new venue.

 

Again, this move is due to the need for posting simplicity and to many of the restrictive, reactive, and arbitrary policies found on *some* fan fiction sites (FF.net), which must at some point come into conflict with my storytelling. The first story to disappear from FanFic, AFF, and MediaMiner will be “Standing Outside the Fire”, due to content and rating issues. The others will follow to maintain continuity. You don't have to have a livejournal yourself to read (or review), so please, visit my livejournal, get comfortable with the setup there, and settle in for some (hopefully) powerful reading. Oh, and please, sign any reviews there with your pen-name so I know who you are!

 

Thank you,

GR