Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ This is Not My Life ❯ An exit to eternal summer slacking ( Chapter 17 )

“An exit to eternal summer slacking”

 

—Omi—

 

The phone rings and I notice that the hope that sound inspires has almost been stamped out. Pretty soon I'll be able to react to it without having to suppress my instinct to go, “Is it them?!”

 

Except! I fight disbelief as my mind registers that it is `them.' That's unmistakably Yohji's voice on the other end of the line. I should say something to establish my utter relief at the fact that two people so important to me have not simply dropped off the face of the earth, never to be heard from again.

 

“Yohji, I am going to kill you when you get back here.”

 

Hm. That isn't quite the sentiment that I'd meant to convey. I can't quite argue my sincerity though; would it have killed him to call me sooner?

 

“Take a ticket, and get in line,” his voice sounds mildly bemused, “Aya has first dibs on that.”

 

Aya! More relief. They are together, as I'd assumed. And Yohji didn't correct me when I said `when you get back here.' They're somewhere together and they're coming back. I can already hear Ken's voice saying “I told you so.”

 

“You are coming back, I assume,” I say, just to cement things and give me peace of mind.

 

“Ommitchi? You okay?” Yohji sounds concerned, “you don't…sound like yourself.”

 

Sound like myself? What does Yohji know of how I should sound? If he cared about how okay I was he wouldn't have…. “Tell me if you're coming back, and I'll tell you if I'm okay,” my voice is definitely colder than he's used to now.

 

He falters, obviously thrown by not being greeted with the cheerful front he associates with me. “Ah, see, the thing is….” I cut him off, “A yes or no will suffice.” He falls silent for a moment in which my stomach plunges. “Yes. We are coming back. But not yet and I can't say when. Tell Manx we're taking an unpaid leave of absence.”

 

“Kritiker doesn't allow for that,” I remind him, still irritated.

 

“I think there is a stipulation in there about stress-induced mental illnesses…” he says.

 

Oh, he has got to be joking. “You and Aya kun are suffering from mental illness?” I hope my voice conveys how unconvinced I am.

 

“Big time.”

 

“Uh huh….” I say, “I'm kind of having a hard time buying that Aya kun would agree to that.”

 

“Wait, I'll put him on,” Yohji's voice is distracted and suddenly switches to Aya's. “Kudoh is an idiot, but you should listen to him this time.” Wait. What?

 

“I should listen to him say that the two of you are mentally deficient?” Aya isn't seriously going to allow someone to think that….

 

“Call it what you like,” his tone is matter-of-fact, no trace of emotion. “We'll probably need about a week. To deal with…some problems.”

 

Problems? What the hell kind of problems require Aya and Yohji to take off on their own with no forwarding address? If they're dealing with something serious, shouldn't they be talking to Manx? Or a psychiatrist? Not that the image of Aya willingly confiding in a doctor is a believable one. He's the type to struggle with things on his own. Yohji on the other hand…. It's not hard to picture Yohji sprawled across a leather settee, spouting Freudian theories to an attractive therapist. Hm, I wonder how Yohji factors into the equation of Aya `working out problems.'

 

“One week,” I say, not leaving any room for questions in my tone. This is surreal. Sometimes I forget that technically, being the first member of the team, I actually have authority over Aya. It's not authority I ever exert really, my seniority usually stops at the fact that I plan out our missions. Giving orders to a guy like Aya just plain feels weird.

 

“That is acceptable.” No arguing, no appreciation for my acquiescence. Classic Aya.

 

Now Yohji is back, “Look, I'm really sorry about this Omi, I should have called sooner.”

 

“Damn straight.”

 

“But Aya wasn't kidding,” he continues, “things have been kind of weird and we're both more than a little distracted right now.”

 

“Care to elaborate?” I ask, trying not to let the genuine curiosity show through in my voice.

 

“Actually, no,” he says, “maybe some other time.”

 

“As long as there is an `other time,' that's fine,” I reply, “but I expect you back in a week. I don't think I can explain your absence to Kritiker any longer than that.”

 

“Understood.” He says, and our long-overdue communication is ended.

 

I'd expected that hearing from Yohji would take a tremendous weight off my mind, but the relief is short lived. In fact, the phone call throws me completely off balance. Something is wrong. Both Aya and Yohji sounded strange. I'm not completely convinced they'll make good on their promise a week from now. On the other hand, I've now given them permission. There's nothing I can do but wait, and hope that Yohji was exaggerating with his mental illness pitch.

 

My mulling is interrupted by the bleary-eyed appearance of Ken.

 

If I'd been looking to Ken to set my mind at ease, it was a mistake. He looks almost as troubled as Yohji sounded. I noticed that he got in late last night, and it doesn't appear that he got much sleep afterwards. I feel a slight twinge of guilt.

 

“Yohji kun and Aya kun called.”

 

He instantly brightens. “Really! That's great—” the relief is just as quickly erased as he looks more closely at my face. Why aren't you happy then? “They ARE coming back, right?”

 

Should I burden him with my insecurities?

 

No.

 

I nod. “One week. They both promise to be back in a week.”

 

He chews on his lip as he thinks about this. “Yohji and Aya want to be alone together for a week?” His voice is incredulous. “I'm having a hard time picturing that without imaging one of them killing the other. Did they explain why?”

 

I can't stop my eyes from rolling. “They're having problems.”

 

“Problems.” Ken blinks. “Well, no kidding. They've always had `problems.'”

 

“Yohji kun claims they are problems of the mental illness sort.”

 

That elicits a smile from Ken. “That's probably the only explanation for those two wanting to be alone together that I could find believable.”

 

“They sounded kind of strange, Ken kun,” I say, my worry finally winning out, “well, at least Yohji did. Aya sounded like himself, but it wasn't like him to agree that he's having issues. It was a really odd phone call.”

 

“But they said they're coming back,” Ken reiterates.

 

“Well yeah, but—”

 

“But nothing,” he interrupts me. “I've never known Aya to say anything which he didn't make good on. I trust him to come back, and I also trust him to drag Yohji back with him, even if that requires some sort of blunt force trauma to do so.”

 

I can tell by his expression that he genuinely believes what he's saying. I feel just a little bit envious of his ability to still trust people like that.

 

“Well then, in the mean time it's just you and me for a whole week.”

 

If I hadn't already been paying attention to Ken's face, I might have missed the change in his expression. But with the words it's just you and me his look of confidence slides into an unmistakable one of concern. A second later, he's composed himself again, but the damage is done. Ken does not want to be alone with me.

 

A numbness descends as I try to make sense of that. What about the things he said to me on the soccer field? Did he not mean them? Was he just being nice? Ken isn't the type of person who says things just to be nice. He values honesty too much, right? But that look. There was absolutely no question that he finds the idea of spending a week alone with me troubling. Did something happen last night to change things? He did look, well, burdened when he first came down this morning. It's my fault. I was feeling smothered again so I overreacted and kicked him out. I threw everything off balance, and he's had time to reconsider how he feels. I bet he's wishing he was off with Aya and Yohji right now….

 

“Omi,” Ken is now several inches closer to me and looks more concerned than ever, “are you okay? I really do think they'll come back.”

 

His voice snaps me out of my internal panic attack. “Ah—yeah. I'm fine. I was just thinking of how hard it will be to keep things running with only two people. And I still haven't had time to get all the stuff I need for the cat. It's just stress, I'm fine.”

 

I don't think he really bought that, but he doesn't challenge me. After a moment of quiet, he leans back and smiles. “I don't see how your stress is any less significant than whatever Aya and Yohji are dealing with. If they can take a week off, so can we, don't you think?”

 

No, is what I think. I have too much responsibility. Aya and Yohji's absence means we have to work harder than ever. Now is the very worst time I could shirk my duties. I simply shake my head. If he doesn't have to work in the shop, then he doesn't have to be around -you- a secondary, and more malicious voice in my head tacks on.

 

“We could just take off and go somewhere like they did,” Ken persists.

 

I don't immediately shoot this down, simply because I'm surprised he'd suggest it. Why would he be willing to go away with me after the reaction I just got?

 

 

My silence apparently encourages him. “We wouldn't have to go far. We could just drive to the coast or something. If a mission came up Manx could call us, and we'd come back. There's no reason that the shop has to stay open.”

 

I have to admit, it's a very tempting proposal.

 

“What about the cat,” I stall, not sure whether to outright refuse or let him talk me into it.

 

“The cat comes with us.”

 

“It'd be hard to find a place to stay that allows cats.”

 

“Omi,” he looks at me flatly, “you're a highly trained assassin. I'm pretty sure you can handle smuggling a tiny kitten into a hotel room without getting caught.”

 

“When you decide to break the rules, you break all the rules, don't you?” I counter.

 

“In for the inch, in for the mile.”

 

“We shouldn't,” I say, now with as much intent to convince myself as Ken.

 

“We'll perform better on missions if we're rested.”

 

“We can't just close the shop for no reason.”

 

Ken disappears for a moment and returns with a piece of cardboard and a marker. He writes `Closed for repairs' in thick block letters. “There's your reason,” he says cheerfully.

 

“Aya will kill us when he gets back.”

 

“No he won't,” Ken frowns. “Now you're just making excuses. If you don't want to go, just say so.”

 

I don't know how to respond to that. Of course I want to go. But does Ken really want to go himself? He might just be trying to make me feel better again. Things could get really weird if he's just forcing the issue.

 

I lock eye contact with him. “Do you want to go?”

 

My question surprises him. “Why would I bring it up if I didn't?”

 

“Because everything you've done over the past couple days has been an attempt to cheer me up,” I decide blunt honesty is the best way to go with Ken, “if you really want to spend some time away with me then I'll go. But I don't want to get dragged to the beach just because you think it would be good for me.”

 

“Those two scenarios don't have to be mutually exclusive,” he says quietly.

 

“And that means what?” I respond stubbornly.

 

“It means,” his voice is noticeably cautious, “that out of all of Weiβ, I think you could use some time off the most. But it also means that I have personal motivation for suggesting a trip.”

 

“Personal motivation?”

 

“I really, really want to go to the beach with you.”

 

“Well then,” I finally drop my guard a little and smile back at him; maybe I misinterpreted his look of distress, “we need to pack.”