Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ To Catch A Falling Star... ❯ To Catch A Falling Star ( Chapter 1 )

TO CATCH A FALLING STAR....

A Weiss Kreuz FanFiction

even on the road to hell, flowers can make you smile...

"I caught a falling star.

It cut my hand to pieces..."

-Dulvier

"A hit is hard to resist and I never miss

I can take you out with just a flick of my wrist

Make a whole new religion

A falling star that you cannot live without

And I'll feed your obsessions

There is nothing but this thing you'll never doubt

I will be your religion

This thing you'll never doubt

You're not the only one

Now I want it too much

Now I want it to stop

Now I'm lucky like a falling star fell over me..."

-Garbage

This is based upon an ideal I had once I reread a beautiful poem... It is slightly influenced by both "To Bury The Hurt Of Memory" by Tala Firedancer and "Flatline" by Utopian Trunks... Thanks, you two for the beautiful stories! ... I apologize if this is in any way confusing. I'll try to make it make some sense... But then again, you all know me...

"He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream, and he sometimes wondered whose it was, and whether they were enjoying it..."

-Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

"Life is not about survival. Life is about love."

-Pascal Wilt

"Love is an inborn suffering..."

-Le Chapline, The Book of True Love

PRELUDE

"Oh, Youji... When you gonna learn? ..."

Sunlight caught on emerald glass, gleaming red as it faded beneath the horizon.

Youji frowned, and pushed his glasses up absently. He was facing Aya, although this meant precious little to either of them.

"I'm going to read you a poem. Okay?"

Aya ignored him.

Youji sighed. So what else was new?

"It's an older one, and it's kind of long. It's by a British American. Heh. Figure that one out..."

Stony silence.

Hair the colour of honey was brushed absently behind one ear as he began to read...

"Mistah Kurtz --- he dead.

"A penny for the Old Guy"

Aya said nothing.

But then, Aya never did.

I

"We are the hollow men

We are the stuffed men

Leaning together

Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!

Our dried voices, when

We whisper together

Are quiet and meaningless

As wind in dry grass

Or rats' feet over broken glass

In our dried cellar."

~+~

"Balinese!"

He whirled at the sound of his code name, and the bullet whizzed past his face. He felt the sting, and reflexively closed one eye. The shooter fell, clawing at his own throat.

Bombay reloaded his crossbow, giving Youji the thumbs up sign. To his radio, Omi spoke swiftly,

"Bombay, Balinese in position. Abyssinian, Siberian,--- Go!!"

"Bombay!!"

More men rounded the corner.

Alarms sounded.

Shit.

~+~

Youji was close to panicking.

He'd lost Omi earlier in the building. The boy was alive, that much he knew. He'd already seen evidence of Bombay's passing, as well as all of the charges he had set.

Charges that were rapidly counting down.

Youji was rapidly realizing that dozing during the layout briefing had been a very poor, poor lapse in judgement.

He spun as yet another bunch of guards surrounded him. How many of these bastards were there?!

The air rippled and sang as the wire danced forward, catching one man's throat. Light glittered off the delicate weapon, and the harsh jangle of it being pulled taunt shivered down his spine.

He had killed four when the barrel of the gun connected with the back of his head. Youji stumbled. His assailant kicked him, sending the Balinese sprawling.

Desperately, he threw the wire, catching the bulky man's wrist. The gun flew forward, firing as it skidded past Youji.

There was a wet sound, and the guard screamed. Blood exploded from his back, as he fell to his knees.

Violet eyes glittered in the low light. Youji swallowed hard. Finally, he noticed the gloved hand outstretched towards him.

Cool leather kissed his bare fingers as he was hauled roughly to his feet.

~+~

" Shape without form, shade without colour,

Paralyzed force, gesture without motion;"

~+~

The floor spun for a second, and the Balinese stumbled.

Abyssinian caught him, locking one arm around his waist, and half-dragged him to safety.

Later, in the car, Youji smiled faintly at his rescuer.

"Thanks."

He could still feel that hand on his hip, squeezing almost... possessively.

Aya did not respond.

Of course, Aya never did.

~+~

" Those who have crossed

With direct eyes, to death's other kingdom

Remember us --- if at all --- not as lost

Violent souls, but only

As the hollow men

The stuffed men."

~+~

" --- then, the explosives triggered, destroying the remainder of the chemicals..."

Omi was explaining their tactics to Manx.

Youji yawned noisily. He hated debriefings. He hated tactics.

"Payosheenaite Laydee..." He muttered under his breath, "Ah, geeve mee yoore luv..."

"Youji!" Manx snapped. "Try to pay attention."

No. Not tonight.

The feel of the wire was still burning in his skin. The smell of blood still clung to his hair. He could still feel the heat of Aya's hand upon his side. Funny, he'd always thought Aya's touch would be cold...

He wondered suddenly what she'd think of him now.

He was not the brash fool he had been in her short life. Not really.

Now he was older, so very much older. He was no longer a detective who was too nervous to use his own gun.

Now, he killed, almost each night.

Each twist of the wrist, each operetta of the wire, designed to give his life meaning.

To fill the gap left in his heart by her brutal death, and to alleviate the grief that threatened to consume him in the wee, wee hours, when the lies just wouldn't do.

"Oh, Youji... When you gonna learn? ..."

He closed his eyes.

Never.

"...asuka..."

~+~

II

"Eyes I dare not meet in dreams

In death's dream kingdom

These do not appear:

There, the eyes are

Sunlight on a broken column

There, is a tree swinging

And voices are

In the wind's singing

More distant and more solemn

Than a fading star."

~+~

He was drowning.

The water around him was warm, though. So warm... He kicked listlessly. His eyes were closed.

Around him, the red ink flowed, washing gently off of the tattoo on his left shoulder.

He was safe here, in this cocoon of lies. The water was warm, and his eyes were closed. If he reached out far enough, he liked to think he might be able to reach her hand...

He felt in his pocket for the rose.

She had loved roses. He shifted, and it slipped out from his fingers. Blindly, he grabbed for it.

Petals brushed his fingertips. The scent of nicotine and gunpowder.

...sin...

Something closed firmly around his hair. Fingers on his scalp...

His eyes flew open, as the flower floated away...

The water was warm.

Thick. And Warm.

His vision adjusted to the gloom.

He touched her hand.

"Oh, Youji... When you gonna learn? ..."

"You can make it now , if you run alone..."

"...When you gonna learn?

Loose skin brushed his fingers.

Skeletal.

He could not see her face, covered as it was by murk, and by her hair.

The water was warm.

She was decayed.

The water ---

--- b l o o d

Sin!

"ASUKA!!!"

Air filled his lungs as he broke the surface.

~+~

Gasping for oxygen, he saw violet in the night.

The air around him was icy. Goosebumps covered his exposed flesh, as he struggled to the shore.

His rescuer stood there, drying his hands.

He remembered the grip in his hair.

Frowning, the other man pulled on his gloves.

A snatch of conversation struck him, as he watched pale flesh become enveloped in supple leather.

"Did you love her...?"

"... I don't know."

Youji woke with a gasp. The room was empty.

It took him five tries to flick the lighter correctly. The little flame shook. Fought. Died. Was enough.

Acrid smoke filled his lungs as the cigarette burned. His hands shook.

Asuka...

His head ached, almost as if someone had tugged roughly on his hair.

Violet and leather.

Rescue and silence.

No response to his pain.

His savior had been cold.

Disinterested.

He had not cared.

But then, Aya never did.

~+~

" Let me be no nearer

In death's dream kingdom

Let me also wear

Such deliberate disguises

Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves

In a field

Behaving as the wind behaves

No nearer---

" Not that final meeting

In the twilight's kingdom"

~+~

"Where do you go?"

Aya turned to look at him, mouth working into a deeper frown. Heh. If that was at all possible.

"Out."

"Out where?" Youji asked. He hopped off the counter, and followed Aya into the storage room.

The redhead ignored him.

"You like being so mysterious. How come?"

"You like being so noisy. How come?" Aya mimicked his tone with deflated ease.

"Maa, Aya-kun! Didn't you know? I'm madly in love with you!!" Youji quipped. He giggled maniacally at the confused expression on the other's face. "Joke, Aya. It was a joke."

The swordsman scowled suddenly. "I have work to do. Get out."

Youji gasped as he was bodily pushed out of the door.

"Oi!!" He cried, as the door slammed shut in his face.

The lock clicked.

"Bastard."

~+~

Pouting, Youji slumped against the countertop.

Why does he hate me? He talks to Omi --- I've hear him. And he eats sometimes with Ken. What's so wrong with me? . . .

Looking at his reflection in the nearby mirror, he set his lips in an exact copy of Aya's trademark scowl. Narrowing his eyes, he removed his glasses, and folded his arms stiffly over his chest.

"I have work to do. Get out!" He snapped, mimicking the redhead's icy tone.

He fought the urge to snicker.

Imagine! If he were this cold, he would never hurt again!

The door banged open, and Omi bustled in, carrying lunch. "Ohayo, Youji-kun!!"

"Ohayo." He said, still using his Aya-voice.

Omi blinked up at him, looking surprised. He nearly lost his grip on the bag.

Youji caught it smoothly, setting it on the counter. He couldn't hold it anymore, and chuckled, face settling into his usual grin.

Omi looked relieved. "Oi, Youji-kun, you scared me! For a minute I thought you'd caught Aya-kun's personality bug!"

Youji smiled, almost sadly. "Nah, that'd be the easy way out. Did you get any ham and swiss?"

~+~

III

" This is the dead land

This is cactus land

Here the stone images

Are raised, here they receive

The supplication of a dead man's hand

Under the twinkle of a fading star."

~+~

He was drowning.

The air around him was cold and empty. He stood alone on the roof of the shop, staring at the lights below.

The night was so cool, it stung at his lungs. Only the nicotine helped. Only the nicotine ever helped. Cupping one hand around his cigarette, his other struck the lighter.

"Ah, Youji..." He mused aloud. "When you gonna learn?..."

His right arm was folded over his chest, fingers digging into the left biceps.

Sin.

Man's sin.

His sin.

...Aya's?

"I have work to do. Get out."

...

"I don't care. Call me what you like."

...

"You shouldn't have come."

...

"You're endangering the mission."

...

"Balinese! Pay attention!"

...

"Youji!!"

The cigarette slipped from cold, numb fingers. He gasped, faltering on the edge of the roof.

The tiny ember was rushed out as it vanished into the inky darkness.

A strong hand was squeezing his shoulder.

Youji closed his eyes.

Sin.

His sin.

He was yanked away from the edge.

"What were you doing?!"

Youji stared into the glaring violet depths, feeling lost.

"... My..." His throat was dry. He licked his lips.

Hesitantly, he ducked forward to press his mouth lightly to Aya's.

...Man's sin...

~+~

" Is it like this

In death's other kingdom

Waking alone

At the hour when we are

Trembling with tenderness

Lips that would kiss

Form prayers to broken stone."

~+~

"Gomen, Aya." Youji whispered, turning away.

The night was cold.

Nicotine would help.

His hands shook as he fumbled to strike the lighter.

Damn catch...

Strong fingers --- whispering leather --- closed over his hands.

The shaking stopped.

The cigarette broke.

He was drowning.

The taste was cool. It was slightly sour, like water that's been sitting for a little too long. The tongue in his mouth was slow, yet demanding, as it ravaged the dark cavern.

Aya's hands were closing over his shoulders, twisting him, and pulling him down. Youji allowed himself to be moved.

Aya's lips were cold...

Like kissing stone.

The memory of the dead Asuka's decaying fingers filled the black space behind his eyelids.

He jerked backwards, eyes wide.

Startled, Aya released him.

He stumbled, falling down hard onto one thigh, elbow scraping on the concrete.

"---Aya..."

"When will you learn, Youji?"

Emerald eyes widened. "Wh... what?!"

Aya knelt beside him, leaning over Youji, like some demented form of a guardian angel.

"When will you learn what it is you do to people?" Aya's voice was soft, low, and ultimately... seductive.

"M... matte, Aya---"

"Shhh..." The swordsman admonished, claiming Youji's lips once more.

There was no tenderness.

Aya said nothing as he led Youji, unprotesting, down the stairs.

But then, Aya never did.

~+~

IV

"The eyes are not here

There are no eyes here

In this valley of dying stars

In this hollow valley

This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms"

~+~

There were no words as they fell to the bed.

There was only the caress of skin, the gust of discarded clothing, and the heat of loneliness, burning in each man.

Youji moaned as Aya's fingers danced over his bare flesh, still encased in a prison of leather.

In the lamplight, Aya was magnificent.

His pale skin seemed ethereal, and his eyes as dark as night.

To the swordsman, Youji was a fallen angel. His golden skin awash in yellow light, hair shimmering like gossamer. Only his eyes betrayed him, half-lidded with lust and expectation.

Then, Aya's hands moved farther, faster than Youji liked.

"Hanase--- Aya---"

And Aya's hand was over his mouth. He could taste the leather. Bitter.

"No. No words. Do not spoil this with your meaningless words, Youji." Aya growled.

Eyes wide Youji nodded.

The redhead's hand left his mouth, sliding down his throat, to rest on his left bicep.

Sin.

Youji closed his eyes.

~+~

" In this last of meeting places

We grope together

And avoid speech

Gathered on this beach of the tumid river"

~+~

Aya groaned softly. Youji was moist heat around him, as they danced, in a pagan art form, older, still, than love.

Pale fingers, hidden by leather, were clasped firmly around golden wrists. However, Youji was not in a frame of mind to struggle.

This was his final prayer for salvation, and Aya's only stab at life.

There was no pain here, not really. Only a swift, low sensation of it--- quickly replaced by molten pleasure. Lips bruised his face as the redhead sank deeper. Youji moaned.

The pace increased, and Youji cried out. Wrenching one hand free of Aya's, he pressed the back of his wrist to his mouth.

His mind crystallized, and shattered.

Warmth filled him.

Time stopped.

When his vision cleared, his flesh had begun to grow cool. The door snicked softly.

He rolled over in the lamplight, pulling the blanket up and over himself.

He glanced down at his tattoo.

"Mine..." He whispered.

Moisture, now, in his eyes.

He ignored it.

He ached.

With a sharp click, the bulb in the lamp dimmed.

Its death was heralded only by the flicker of a wire, and a pale blue flash of light. It stung his retinas, as his vision adjusted to the darkness.

Youji wondered where his light was.

Aya had not said one single word. Not even when he had completely owned him. Not even when he'd come. Not even after, before he'd left him alone.

But then, Aya never did.

~+~

" Sightless, unless

The eyes reappear

As the perpetual star

Multifoliate rose

Of death's twilight kingdom

The hope only

Of empty men."

~+~

"Shit!"

Youji pressed his palm to his mouth, sucking on the blood now welling there.

"Youji-kun!!" Omi cried, dropping his spray bottle and rushing over.

"Daijobu, Chibi." Youji mumbled, mouth muffled by his bleeding hand.

"What's gotten in to you lately, Youji-kun? You haven't been concentrating on anything at all! The shop, the plants, not even the girls!!"

"Just not... Feeling well."

"Let me see that." Omi ordered, tugging on Youji's wrist. "Oi! This is very deep!"

"It's just a little shearer's bite."

"Youji-kun, we have a mission tonight!"

"I'll be fine, Omi-kun. I'm always fine."

He glanced over at the broken rose, lying discarded upon the countertop.

Beautiful.

Crimson.

Silken.

Cold.

Dead.

Like Aya...

...Youji hated flowers.

~+~

"Go to him, and stay with him, but be prepared to bleed..."

Youji took a drag of the cigarette.

"Blood Roses..."

The air was still too cold, but the poison warmed him.

The twilight hid the road below, but he knew that it was there.

Cold, hard, and numb.

All he hated.

All he wanted.

Gravel skittered off the edge of the roof. His eyes widened.

It was that easy.

"Youji."

"It's that easy..." He whispered.

Hands closed over his arms.

He spun.

The cigarette hit the concrete.

Gravel flew.

He lost his balance.

"Youji!!"

They tumbled, Aya backward, and Youji forward.

"I hate you." Youji spat.

"I know." Aya whispered, and crushed his lips in a fierce kiss.

~+~

V

"Here we go round the prickly pear

The prickly pear prickly pear

Here we go round the prickly pear

At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea

And the reality

Between the motion

And the act

Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom"

~+~

"Aya!! Aya--- stop!" Youji cried as he was pressed backwards, into the bed.

Aya ignored him, and grabbed his wrists, holding him down.

Biting at his free hand, he pulled off first one glove, then the other.

He needed this contact. He needed to feel Youji --- to touch him, unprotected. He did not want the cold distance of the leather this time.

He wanted Youji.

Only Youji.

Only this.

He looked down at him. Those emerald eyes were clenched shut tightly. At one corner, a drop of moisture trembled.

Youji trembled.

Gentle now, for the first time he kissed Youji's scrunched face, tasting the salt of that single tear.

"Youji..."

Aya let his nose graze the other man's.

"Youji... Please look at me. Please."

Warily, those beautiful eyes cracked open.

"Please, Youji..." Aya whispered.

He was unsure of what it was he meant to ask.

Hesitantly, Youji's lips ghosted across his own.

Aya reached for the bottle waiting on the dresser.

Youji rolled onto his stomach, and began to cry, very quietly.

If Aya tried hard enough, he could almost pretend he heard nothing at all...

~+~

" Between the conception

And the creation

Between the emotion

And the response

Falls the Shadow

Life is very long"

~+~

"Oh, Youji... When you gonna learn?..."

...

"I hate you."

"I know."

~+~

"...Youji?..."

He ignored him.

"Balinese."

"Go away, Aya."

"Why?"

"I want to be alone."

". . ." Aya paused, moistening his lips with the corner of his tongue. "We have a mission." He pointed out.

"I'll be there."

". . ."

He paused in the doorway.

"...Youji... I'm sorry."

". . ."

When he received no response, the redhead left the darkened bedroom, not knowing what else to do.

But then, Aya never did.

~+~

"Oh, Youji..."

Youji stared at the far wall.

His hand ached dully.

Omi was right. The wound was very deep.

But then again, Youji's always were.

~+~

" Between desire

And the spasm

Between the potency

And the existence

Between the essence

And the descent

Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom

~+~

Bombay frowned.

Something was wrong.

He had sent Balinese and Abyssinian to take down the guards, while Siberian took out the target.

However, these guards were far from the simple run-of-the-mill hired yakuza muscle they had become accustomed to. These men were also assassins. Americans.

Neither Abyssinian nor Balinese had radioed back.

He tapped his own radio. Siberian answered.

"Something's wrong..."

~+~

Youji ached.

His hand ached.

He ached inside.

Aya...

"I'm sorry."

. . .

"I have work to do. Get out."

. . .

"You're a fool, Kudou."

. . .

"Oh, Youji... When you gonna learn?..."

He was drowning.

"My sin..." He whispered.

He had thought the sex would help. He always thought the sex would help.

The sex never helped.

He was haunted.

Worse.

He was in love with the ghosts.

He was in love with---

"Damn."

~+~

He rolled as the gun went off. Wire spooled. Blood sprayed.

He ran.

More men.

His hand hurt.

He killed again. Wire sang. A man cried out --- It ended in a choked gurgle.

He fell to one knee.

The man caught the wire on his blade.

He pulled. Youji pulled.

The wire snapped free, and he lost his equilibrium.

The men pounced.

Youji's wire sprang forth.

A fraction of a second too slow.

His hand hurt so much now...

A fraction of a second was too much.

The wire tore.

A fraction of a second too late.

"AYA!!"

~+~

" For Thine is

Life is

For Thine is"

~+~

Steel.

That was all he saw.

"I hate you."

. . .

"I know."

. . .

"I'm sorry."

. . .

"I know."

. . .

"Oh, Youji... When you gonna learn?..."

. . .

Blood.

On his face.

In his hair.

On his hands.

Not his.

Never his.

Youji screamed.

Aya said nothing.

But then, Aya never did.

~+~

" This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but a whimper."

~+~

Youji finished reading. His voice broke.

He stared at Aya.

Was Aya staring back?

He would never know.

"I hate you."

. . .

"I'm sorry."

. . .

"I know."

. . .

"Youji... Please."

. . .

"I know."

. . .

He felt the first sob rise up, cresting like a wave on a rainy day.

Too soon and too late.

He pressed his face into his hands, and wept beside the grave.

Aya said nothing.

But then, Aya never did.

Youji had learned nothing.

But then, Youji never did.

~+~

OWARI

begun 09/14/02

completed 09/17/02

final 09/23/02

~+~

Whew.

This story took roughly six hours to write. It was written in two large chunks, and two smaller ones, over the course of four days.

The usual disclaimers. I don't own the pretty florists. They belong to their respective yaoi lovers and Project Weiz. "The Hollow Men" belongs to T.S. Eliot, who was the God of poetry.

~+~

Glossary & Notes:

When Omi and Manx are discussing tactics, the song Youji sings ("Payosheenaite Laydee... Ah, geeve mee yoore luv...") is from "Tactics", by the Yellow Monkey, which is the first ending to Rurouni Kenshin.

"Go to him, and stay with him, but be prepared to bleed" comes from the song "Blood Roses" by Tori Amos.

I used a lot of repetition in this fic, for dramatic effect, and to build towards the ending. My favorite metaphor in the whole story is that of the light bulb.

"With a sharp click, the bulb in the lamp dimmed.

Its death was heralded only by the flicker of a wire, and a pale blue flash of light. It stung his retinas, as his vision adjusted to the darkness.

Youji wondered where his light was."

At the time, Youji wonders where his blue light is. He is very weary, and tired of living. He wonders when his penance ends, so that he can finally let himself die.

This also serves as foreshadowing for Aya's death at Youji's own hand. Heralded only by the flicker of a wire...

~+~

And as for the ending...

It was Shuu-chan. I swear!

(Matthew: "Oh, sure! Blame it on the Angel!")

---Manda-chan, Random Mage and Ruler of All I Survey

09/23/02