Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ This is Not My Life ❯ A way for me to tell you whats been on my mind ( Chapter 10 )

“Here's an opportunity for us to find
A way for me to tell you what's been on my mind”

--Yohji--

Witnessing a drunk Aya has always been on my list of ambitions to achieve before I die.

It sounds like a really interesting concept, doesn't it?

There were such fascinating possibilities! Would he be one of those really lude and raucous drunks? I've noticed from observation that it's often the most reserved and uptight patrons that really let loose under the influence. I've seen respectable businessmen do things that even I wouldn't repeat….

Aya could potentially be the life of the party once his inhibitions were taken care of….

Or maybe he'd be a talkative drunk. The ones who have all sorts of secrets locked up inside and are just dying to let them loose on the first person they see once some alcohol has opened the floodgate…. Now that could be really interesting, you know? I'd pay to hear some of the stuff I imagine Aya's keeping from the world.

Of course, I couldn't deny the possibility that a drunk Aya would not be one iota different from a sober Aya. He's so composed and in control. The most likely scenario, I must admit, was that consuming booze would lead to nothing more out of the ordinary than a headache and consequent grumpiness.

Now having finally experienced this rare occurrence…well, I only wish that the mundane outcome of option three had been the case. I was not prepared for what happened.

It all started out well enough, I suppose. I only offered him the beer as a gesture. I sure as hell never expected him to take it. And for once in my life, I really didn't have the ambition of trying to get him smashed. I was just trying to be social and all….kinda like how I'm always offering the guys cigarettes even though I know they all detest me smoking. And how I try to lend them `reading material' despite the fact that my periodicals of choice mortify Ken and Omi, and result in deadly glares from Aya… okay, so that last one is not a social grace, but I find it damn funny, heh. Anyway, my point being that I always make it clear that the beer is not an attempt to socially isolate myself, and I'd be willing to share if only the others were interested in partaking. This was just a historic moment of acceptance. What with how weird Aya's been acting these past few days, well, I probably shouldn't have let him drink much. But I'd already drunk a fair bit myself, so I admit I wasn't running at my keenest.

He practically chugged the first bottle, I suspect because he didn't like it and wanted to get it down as quick as possible, which wasn't really too surprising. What was surprising, though, was when he wordlessly held his hand out in request for another. Shocked, I obliged, and tossed him a second. Like the first, this one was downed at lightning speed. For the third, he bypassed me altogether and got the can himself. By this point, I'd stopped thinking in any form whatsoever that might be taken for “responsibly” and was simply watching in awe, wondering what he'd do next. What he did next was toss the empty third can and reach for a fourth. I was starting to wonder if he was in fact a seasoned drinker and had somehow managed to frequently indulge without me catching him….

Aside from looking a bit pale, he didn't seem to be reacting to the alcohol at all…until about the sixth beer, that is. There was an almost instantaneous reaction as the alcohol really hit him. He went from looking pale to looking sick. The blank expression on his face fell into one that could not be mistaken for anything other than massively depressed. I really have never witnessed him looking so…well, unwell.

I instantly felt guilty. I shouldn't have let him keep drinking like that. I knew he wasn't used to it like me, and that the results would probably be bad. Now Aya's really ill, and it's all my fault. Way to go, Kudoh, further reinforce what an inconsiderate jerk you are.

If Aya had merely gotten sick, though, I could have handled it. It's a common reaction to drinking too much, I know what to do. I coulda given him something bland to eat and lots of water and some medicine. I know the best ways to clean up that sort of mess, I could have taken care of everything like a damn professional. But aside from looking sick, Aya didn't really get particularly ill. Not in the physical sense, anyway. What happened was far, far worse. Aya emotionally fell apart.

His eyes started to glass over and become distant. I watched in horror as they became undeniably wet. Holee shit, was Aya starting to cry? He couldn't be `cause that just doesn't happen. Ayas don't cry. They're not programmed to. Ayas get mad and pissed and sulky and brood…. On occasion they have even been known to be smug…. On good days they are thoughtful and quiet. But crying just doesn't fit into the equation of all that is `Aya.'

Well, apparently I'm going to have to do some recalculating, because Aya does not only cry, but is capable of having a mental breakdown; which he proceeded to do while I sat and watched in helpless mortification.

I must say, hands down, tonight was utterly the most awkward moment of my entire life.

You know those dreams you get in school where you forget to study for a test and then accidentally show up to class naked only to run into your secret crush and watch them laugh their ass off at you? A frickin' cakewalk compared to how weird I felt watching Aya lose his cool.

It started with subtle tears which he tried to ignore, and obviously hoped would pass detection if he didn't draw attention to them. They became more frequent and his attempts to hide them only resulted in less and less control. Before long he was nearly hyperventilating.

I didn't know what to do. I felt like I was violating his privacy more than if I'd walked in on him in the bathroom or something. I wanted to leave, and let him cry himself out without the embarrassment of an observer who had no right to witness it. Had we been at home, I would have moved to another room until I knew he was better. But we were unfortunately in a single hotel room, and I had no immediate escape. It briefly crossed my mind to leave the hotel and maybe go hit a coffee shop or something so he could compose himself. But I didn't feel comfortable leaving him completely alone in such a state. If I could have moved to another room, at least I would have been in hearing distance in case he got sick or tried to hurt himself….

Tried to hurt himself? Would Aya ever attempt such a thing? A day ago I would have said no, but I no longer felt so confident about that….

Well as I could not leave in good conscience, I was pretty much trapped. All I could think was Oh Hell, I broke him! Which was quickly followed by, He is going to kill me after this.

Resigned, I decided to try and be comforting—not a skill I exceed at. My `comfort repertoire' is pretty much exclusively tied to girls. There's probably been an incident or two which demanded my attention to Omi, but really, there's not a whole lot of difference there.

One of the really cool things about comforting girls is that they get upset more easily, so you can often comfort them without having the emotional strain of a serious problem to deal with afterwards. Like, this one girl I knew would start crying over stupid shit like getting a parking ticket or loosing her wallet. So I'd score some guilt-free snuggling with her and then hand her some cash and presto, problem solved. Hey, come to think of it, she was probably using me…. Huh.

Well, with Aya I most certainly lacked the luxury of solving his problems with cash, and I wasn't about to wrap my arms around him like I would with Lady sobs-a-lot either, hell, that would probably piss him off more than the fact that I was witnessing this in the first place. So I did the only thing I could think of. I gave him a firm brotherly pat on the shoulder.

I'd like to say that this caused him to snap out of it and everything went back to normal, and Aya stopped behaving like a creature from another dimension, and I had no lingering weird karma to deal with afterwards…but it didn't. What in fact happened, was Aya went limp, and my `firm pat' caused him to fall over, where he proceeded to curl up and start shaking. So I tried again, this time I just put my hand on his arm and didn't make any sudden movements…. But at this point he barely seemed to be aware that I was there. We're talking complete withdrawal.

“Aya?” I lamely whisper, “Aya, are you okay?”

Are you okay! My brain mocks back at me, of course he isn't okay, dumbass, he's in the friggin' fetal position! How many people have you seen acting like him who were okay?

He might be okay aside from being drunk, I argue to myself.

Ha! Fat chance! How many drunks have you seen who looked like THAT?

Aya isn't normal when he's sober, it stands to reason he would act equally weird when he is drunk. I'm clutching at straws here.

Stop fooling yourself, my subconscious states with finality; you're the worst friend ever.

“Aya….” I shake him gently, “Aya, snap out of it! You're okay, nothings wrong!”

“Everything's wrong….” Aya whimpers. At first I think he's answering me, but as he continues I realize he's talking to himself. “It's really over—sniff—I can't get it back...it couldn't ever be the same….”

I lean down so I can see his face better, “Please tell me what's wrong,” I beg.

“No more stories,” he mutters, “no more trips…or talking sewing needles…or—sniff—stupid games…or…..”

Talking sewing needles! I think Aya's lost it. I always suspected he'd be the first of us to snap…but not like this.

I pull Aya up so he's sitting; well slouching, to be a little more exact. Cautiously I make him turn to look at me.

“Aya. I'm right here. Listening. Tell me what the matter is.”

He shakes his head. “Can't,” he mumbles, “I promised her.”

His quiet words hit me like a sledge hammer. Her? Aya has a `her'? A girlfriend maybe? Why does that thought make me sick to my stomach? It shouldn't bother me should it? No, I'm probably just bothered by the fact he kept her secret… I don't like when people close to me keep secrets. We never were close though, huh? I'm the right old hypocrite, we all kept secrets….

“Her?” I pry, hoping he'll drop a little more information.

“Aya,” he sobs.

Aya? So now he's talking in the third person? I feel like we're going about in circles.

“But you're Aya.” I point out.

He shakes his head, “Not Aya. Wish I was. It should have been me….” He starts shaking again.

I'm beyond confused. “If you're not Aya, who is? Who are you?”

“Said too much,” He mutters with a wince, “I promised…doesn't matter it's gone anyway….”

Aya(?) looks so defeated that I throw away my better judgment and pull him into a hug. He can brutally dismember me later if he wants, I don't really care anymore.

He doesn't push me away. Instead I find him staring intently at the side of my head.

“Yes?” I ask puzzled.

“Your hair is blond,” he states, as if he'd never noticed before.

“Um, yeah.” I answer awkwardly, “It is. I'm only half Japanese.”

“You look like a Hans.” He says cryptically.

I'm not quite sure how to respond that that. Whatever the heck it means.

“I think Aya would have liked you.” He says sadly, before closing his eyes.

Needless to say, I have a hell of a time falling asleep after that.