Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ To Fight for Life and Love ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 8 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Damn but if the silence wasn't annoying. Ken twisted on his bed so he could look over his shoulder to where Omi was sitting. The blonde continued to concentrate on whatever inane task he was doing, completely ignoring Ken. Frowning, the brunette flopped onto his back and tucked his arms behind his head. One week. One whole godsbedamned week and he hadn't spoken to Omi yet. The tension had been growing thicker between them and yet neither had enough courage to face the other.

Or maybe Omi didn't even want to talk about it. Maybe he hated Ken for what he did. The bed creaked softly as Ken twisted and turned on it, trying to screw up his courage to talk to Omi. Plastering a smile on his face, Ken turned to face Omi, the boy's name on the tip of the brunette's tongue. But, as he watched Omi, his nerve failed him. Instead, he shifted so he could lie on his stomach and continue watching his friend.

Omi blushed as he felt Ken's gaze rest on him. It was embarrassing, to say the least. After the incident at the party, Omi hadn't been able to look Ken in the face without feeling heat rise to his face. Shifting uncomfortably, Omi turned his back to Ken. It wasn't that the kiss had been bad; in fact, Omi found himself thinking about it quite often, and smiling at the memory. As if to prove that fact correct, he lifted his fingers to his lips, brushing them slightly as he softly sighed.

Catching himself, the blonde scolded himself mentally. He should stop dwelling on the past. It seemed Ken had forgotten already, which made matters worse.

Daring a glance over his shoulder, Omi watched Ken for a moment before turning back around. What if Ken had forgotten? Or, what if he hadn't, and he was angry that he had kissed Omi? What if... Omi gulped... what if he regretted it? If it meant nothing to Ken?

And why, he wondered, why did he care so much?

******

The journey home had seemed a lot longer than the journey to the party. For Ken, it had been pure torture. He and Omi walked side-by-side the whole way, neither saying a word. Frustrated, Ken kicked at the dirt, causing little dust clouds to form at his feet. The streets were completely void of activity and the silence was starting to get to the gladiator. He wanted to talk to Omi; to say something to ease the tension between them. Every so often, the brunette would take a deep breath, open his mouth, and end up sighing loudly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Omi fiddling with the edge of his tunic. It was stupid, not being able to bring up the incident with the boy. It was cowardly.

After what seemed like an hour, the boys finally made it back to the school. They slipped through the halls easily and soon found themselves back in the main room. Once there, the tension between them grew even worse. Noises echoed eerily in the halls as Ken fidgeted nervously beside Omi. Omi just stood there, looking down at the floor and not moving. For one long moment, Ken looked at his friend. Although it was difficult to see anything in the dark, Ken could tell that Omi was not at ease. His whole body was tense, fists clutching his tunic tightly and head bowed so his hair was covering most of his face. The sight made Ken's heart twist painfully. To know that he was the one that caused Omi that much pain... Well, he'd fix it. Since Omi was obviously uncomfortable about the kiss earlier, Ken would just act like it hadn't happened. If that would make Omi feel better, make him feel more comfortable around the gladiator, then he could do that. Clearing his throat loudly, Ken turned and gave Omi a wide smile, hoping he wouldn't see through it.

"Well, I'm off to bed now. I... guess I'll talk to ya later... right?" Pretending to yawn and stretch, Ken turned away from the slave, unable to look at him anymore. It was beginning to become uncomfortable to breath; no air wanted to get past the lump in his throat. He thought he heard Omi calling for him; thought that, maybe, it was a mistake to run from the problem.

But Ken couldn't bring himself to go back; Omi would probably be happier if the subject was never brought up again. And in the end, Ken would rather stay friends with the blonde than ruin everything for a relationship that would never happen. The door slammed shut behind Ken allowing him to lean against it and catch his breath. Shaky hands reached up to run through his disheveled locks, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Idiot, Ken berated himself. It'd be better to talk to 'im now. Make him think you didn't mean it... that it won't happen again.

It was quite a while, however, before Ken was able to even push himself away from the door. Steeling his resolve, Ken opened the door and hurried back to the main room. He hadn't been gone that long; Omi should still be there and then... they could talk and everything would go back to normal. Ken gazed into the room distantly. His stomach lurched violently causing him to lean against the wall for support. The stones were cold against his bare feet and arms as he stood in bewilderment; Omi wasn't there. The embers from the room's fire crackled, echoing loudly in the room. Feeling suddenly tired, Ken slumped against the wall and slid to the ground, burying his head in his hands.

******

"Well, I'm off to bed now. I... guess I'll talk to ya later... right?" Omi stared at Ken's back as he made his way out of the room. Not sure what to do, Omi started after the gladiator, reaching out with one hand as if to stop him.

"Ken.... Ken!!" Omi called weakly.

Dazed and a bit confused, the blonde slowly stumbled over to the fireside, slowly lowering himself to sit on the stones. Was that it, then? Was that going to be the ending to this strange night? Although Ken's absence made Omi feel a bit more at ease, he also found that he missed the gladiator's presence. Wrapping his arms around his legs, Omi rested his chin on his knees while staring at the dying embers.

He wished Ken was still around. The evening had been confusing - the soldiers, the dancing, the kiss… Omi needed someone to talk to, someone to help him figure out his feelings. More than anything, he wanted explanations. Why had Ken kissed him? Why had he kissed back? And why had it felt so... good? That was what was confusing Omi the most; why had kissing Ken felt so good?

The slave stared at the fire a bit longer. One part of his mind was telling him to go after the gladiator, while the other part was saying to go to bed and forget everything. In one quick movement, Omi stood and started heading for Ken's room. Midway across the common room, the blonde stopped, suddenly unsure of himself.

What if Ken left because he was embarrassed? What if he didn't mean to kiss Omi and now just wanted to be left alone? Finding the room suddenly cold, Omi wrapped his arms around himself and began pacing the room fervently. It hurt; just thinking that Ken thought that... it hurt. Omi studied the empty room for a moment before turning and running to his own room. As quietly as possible, Omi stepped past the other slaves in the room and to his bed. Once there, the blonde fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around his body. Fighting to keep the sobs he felt coming silent, Omi bit his lip, allowing himself to fall sideways onto his bed. Feeling exposed and defenseless, the blonde curled in on himself and silently cried himself to sleep.

******

Both boys jumped suddenly as one of Omi's bowls clattered to the ground. They stared at it for a moment, awed that it had dared to break the silence. Cautiously, Omi reached out and picked the bowl up, glancing at Ken as he did so. Ken caught the blonde's eye for one breathless moment. A crooked smile broke across Ken's face as he moved to sit up; Omi just stared at him a moment longer before snapping back around, a blush rapidly spreading across his cheeks. Lips pursed, Ken pushed off his bed and started to pace around the room. One of them had to break the silence at some point; maybe, if he was the one to do it, Omi would be more at ease. Clearing his throat loudly, Ken turned to face his friend.

"Hey, Omi..." The gladiator trailed off as Omi turned.

"Yes?" he asked innocently. Ken gulped and glanced around the room. Great, just great. Now that he had the chance, he had no idea what he was going to say. Ken's mouth hung open for a moment before he closed it abruptly.

"Uhhh... that is, I... uhhh... I wanted to know... it's nothing." Omi quirked an eyebrow as he watched Ken flounder. The gladiator was unwilling to meet the boy's gaze, and shifted nervously on his feet. "I was... are you hungry?"

If it was possible, Ken would've kicked himself. He finally had Omi's attention and the best he could come up with was if Omi was hungry? Daring a glance at the blonde, Ken caught Omi staring at him. Blushing brightly, Omi snapped his head around to stare at the fire. The silence stretched between them as Ken waited for an answer he didn't think was forthcoming. Placing his tools and bowls on the floor, Omi stood slowly, strolling towards Ken. Ken froze as he waited for Omi's response, wondering what he was going to do. Omi paused halfway across the room to study Ken. In a sudden movement, the blonde turned for the door and nearly ran into the hallway. Ken could just stare for a moment, surprised by the action. Faintly, Omi's voice was carried back to Ken as the boy hurried down the hall.

"I'll be right back. I'll go get some food!" As the door slowly swung shut, Ken pouted and headed back to his bed. With a loud sigh, he threw himself onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. What had he done this time?

******

"Erica!! Erica?!" Omi yelled as he dashed down the halls leading to the kitchen. He deftly dodged the other slaves and workers as he picked up speed. In his haste, the blonde nearly passed the kitchen and his goal. He skidded to a stop, touching the ground quickly to balance himself as he turned. Panting and sweating slightly, Omi stood in the doorway to the kitchen, scanning it quickly for the person he was looking for. "Erica!"

The flaming red hair of his companion was hard to hide in the crowd. Omi frantically waved the woman over while still trying to catch his breath. Slowly making her way through the crowded room, Erica patted Omi on the back as his breathing returned to normal. Without wasting another breath, Omi straightened and grabbed Erica's arms.

"Erica, I need your help. It's about Ken; I don't know what to do. Last week was so strange and then he just left and now I don't know what to think anymore. I really liked it but at the same time I didn't and I don't know if he did because he just left. But, even before that, it was rather odd around him. I always feel like he's watching me but I'm never sure, and now it feels like he's avoiding me; or maybe I'm avoiding him but I don't know why. So I need your help. What's going on? Why is Ken avoiding me? Or is it really me and I just don't know it and what about the ki--" Erica just stared at the boy as he began his rant, barely stopping to take a breath between sentences. She noticed a few of the other women around her giving the two of them odd looks. A few also crept closer to her and Omi as if hoping to catch some juicy information.

Glaring at those she could, Erica clamped a hand over Omi's mouth before he could do any harm and hauled him out of the room. Omi struggled in the woman's grip for a moment, surprised by the sudden actions. They struggled down the hall for a bit before Erica pushed a door open and shoved Omi inside. Glaring at the red head through his bangs, Omi rubbed his arm, sitting on the floor to pout. Erica leaned against the door and rubbed her eyes before she walked over to Omi. Kneeling beside the boy, Erica gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Omi, we're free to talk here. Tell me what's going on."

Rubbing at his eyes fiercely, Omi stared at his hands as he began. "It's Ken."

Erica nodded, prompting Omi to continue when he hesitated, "Last week, at the party, something odd happened. Ever since then, it's felt like he's been avoiding me. But I don't know how to tell; I feel so confused, but I know that I want to talk to him again."

Taking a seat beside the slave boy, Erica laid her arm over his shoulders, drawing him close. Omi leaned into the touch, resting his head in the woman's lap.

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" she asked, running her fingers through the boy's hair.

After a moment, Omi nodded and took a breath.

"It was over a year ago when I first saw him..."

******

Ken paced his room frantically. It had been quite awhile since Omi had left; how long, the brunette had no idea, but long enough to make him worry. What if Omi had been looking for a reason to leave? Ken nearly smacked himself; if that had been the case, he had provided the perfect opportunity for the boy to escape.

The wall stared back at Ken as he stopped his pacing. The light from the fire danced on the black stones hypnotically. Sighing, the gladiator reached out and pressed him palm against the wall; his head rested on the back of his hand. Why was he always so careless?

The loud pop of the fire caught Ken by surprise, making him jump and nearly trip over his own feet. Letting out a loud sigh, he walked toward the fire, bending down to pick up a few of Omi's tools. Ken slid to the ground and stared at the door blankly, unconsciously fiddling with them.

When would Omi come back?

******

"So, he danced with you at the party?"

Omi nodded and looked away from his friend. He started pacing the room nervously again as a deep blush spread across his face. "Well, I did drag him into it. Kind of. But, I liked it and I think he did too." The last part of the sentence was nearly lost as Omi's voice trailed off.

Keeping her face neutral, Erica nodded to Omi again. "And after that?"

The blonde turned away from the red head, bowing his head. "After that, we returned to the school. Ken and I became closer, and I was happy."

******

The door barely cracked open before Ken slammed it shut once more. Letting out a dry laugh, Ken banged one fist on the door. He was being such an idiot. Taking a deep breath, Ken held it for a moment as he reached for the door once more. Just as his fingers wrapped around the handle, Ken wrenched his hand away and slammed his back against the door, growling.

It shouldn't be this hard. Open the door and go find Omi. Where's the difficulty in that? Ken berated himself as the fire started to dim. He watched it for a moment, seeing his own life within the flames.

Shaking his head to rid it of the distressing thoughts, Ken reached for the door and flung it open, stepping lightly out into the hallway.

******

"And that's it." Omi sighed, plopping down on the ground. Erica had been patient and listened to him the whole time, hardly interrupting him. Omi turned his wide eyes on the woman now, silently begging her for an answer.

"After you two kissed, you came back and Ken just disappeared?" Omi nodded, his toes drawing designs in the dust. "Did you try to talk to him at all?"

Omi shook his head. "What should I do? I don't feel like I can talk to Ken. Why do I feel so strange around him… even when I'm not around him? I'm confused! It's like..."

Omi struggled for the words to describe the feeling. He started at the light touch on his back; his head swiveling around to catch the soft smile the red head was giving him.

"I understand, Omi." She chuckled softly at the puzzled look the boy gave her. "You've fallen in love. There's no way to describe the feeling, so don't beat yourself up trying to."

Squeaking, Omi stumbled to his feet and backed away from the woman. "Love?! What makes you say that?"

"Think about it," she replied, slowly standing and brushing herself off. "How do you feel when Ken's around? Don't try to explain it to me. How do you react to him? And what do you think of him? Simple: what are your feelings telling you? When you figure that out, you'll understand what I mean."

It was a fairly quiet walk back to the kitchen. Omi had his head bowed in thought the entire time, as Erica gave him the time to think.

When they reached their destination, Omi made as if to keep walking. Erica, however, stopped him. "Wait here a moment. I'll get you some food."

Not really paying attention, Omi waited as he was told to. Minutes later, the red head reappeared carrying a tray filled with food and drink. She handed it to the blonde, nudging his chin with her fingers before he left. "Don't worry. Everything will work out."

Omi smiled brightly, silently thanking the woman for her advice.

"Omi!!" The tray nearly fell from Omi's hands as Ken appeared from around the corner. A smile tugged at the boy's lips when he saw his friend.

Ken jogged over to his friend and Erica, hardly noticing the woman. "What took you so long? I've been waiting for you forever. Ahhhh!! Food! That's great! Com'on Omi, we can eat this in my room!"

Grabbing Omi's arm, Ken began to pull the blonde away, his other hand snaking out to grab a bit of food. Omi yelled at the gladiator, any anger in the words dulled by the laughter that followed the reprimand.

Watching the two boys, Erica smiled softly, content to do nothing more. After a moment, the woman pushed off of the wall and headed back to work, certain that everything would work out for the best.

While there was silence as the two ate, the silence was not strained. There was no more tension between the two of them, yet there was also no need for words. Every now and then, Omi would glance up and catch Ken staring at him, causing his stomach to flip and a blush to rise to his face, or to see Ken staring at the fire, deep in thought. It was those moments that invited Omi to see a different side of the gladiator, one that the slave had missed before. Daring a few of his own glances at the brunette, Omi allowed his thoughts to go over what Erica had told him. There were moments when both boys caught each other staring, producing an awkward moment but nothing more. And it was in those moments that Omi thought he understood what the red-haired woman had told him.

Maybe... maybe what he was feeling for Ken was love.

******

The darkness surrounding Ran was more metaphorical than literal, but Aya could still sense it. It was as if a dark shadow had fallen on her brother and followed him wherever he went. He was nearly always in a foul mood and constantly shut her out. And, more than anything, it was the feeling that Ran emitted rather than his actions that worried Aya. The vibes she felt from the red head were passionate and fierce, but hinted at something sinful and consuming. So, it was with a sense of great dread and wariness that the coal-haired girl approached her brother's room.

She waved off the few slaves she saw around the aristocrat's room, motioning for some privacy. The hall was empty within moments leaving Aya by herself to face her brother. After several deep breaths, the girl stepped into Ran's room and quickly searched out the man.

"Ran?" she called softly, her eyes darting around the room. There was a slight breeze that made her shiver involuntarily. Wrapping her arms around her, Aya continued further into the room. The shadows shifted around her, intertwining with each other in a fascinating macabre dance; it was eerily entrancing.

Shaking off her unease, Aya moved forward, calling for her brother, "Ran?"

The fluttering of the curtains in the adjacent room caught the girl's attention for a slight moment. The moonlight spilling into the room was marred only by one shadow. Her breath catching in her throat, Aya stepped forward, peering around the doorway for a better look. "Ran?"

Her voice shook slightly with worry until she found her brother standing on the balcony. The breath she had been holding was released in a rush, startling her by its intensity. Gathering her wits and thoughts, Aya padded closer to her brother, pasting a bright smile on her face. "Ran, I've been looking for you for quite a while now."

Ran, for his part, seemed to ignore his sister while he continued to observe the night sky. Shifting her feet, Aya dared to step closer to the red head to try again. "Ran, why don't you come inside? Dinner was served quite some time ago but I'm sure we can have the servants bring something up."

"Slaves." The correction cut through the air swiftly, causing Aya to halt her plea.

"What did you say?" Never had she heard a word drip so bitterly from her brother's lips. Never had such disdain and hatred been so apparent that it coated a word so thoroughly as to make it sound like poison. Aya felt as if the understanding she had of her brother was melting away to reveal a total stranger. The chill night air bit at the girl's lungs as she sucked in a breath to steady herself. She repeated herself, desperation tainting her words, "What did you say, Ran?"

"Slaves," he repeated casually. "They're nothing more than slaves. And yet, they can be held in such high respect. How can they gain so much? How are they able to gain what we strive for? How can he beat me?" The last part was barely whispered, floating on the night air for Aya to catch if she dared.

The lump that suddenly appeared in the girl's throat made it difficult for her to swallow.

"Ran, please..." she trailed off, not sure what to say or how to word her plea. The red head turned to face her, making her freeze in sudden fear. The darkness that swirled in her brother's eyes outmatched the darkness of the now moonless night. Such feelings of hatred, lust and dispassion the coal-haired girl had never seen before. It was enough to make her blood run cold.

"What?" The moon had hid behind a cloud, leaving the city in complete darkness. Aya brought her arms up to protect herself, turning away from Ran at the same time.

"Ran, please," she began again, "tell me what's wrong?

"There's nothing wrong, Aya. And if there was, it's none of your concern. What I do is my business and it's best if you stay out of it." Struck by the bluntness of the words, Aya nodded dumbly, not trusting herself to speak. A cold wind spun around them, capturing them in an icy grip.

Softly, Aya turned and strode back into her brother's room. "I guess you're right. I shouldn't have bothered you so much. I'm sorry." She had barely walked away from Ran before the red head's voice caused her to pause.

"Aya." She didn't dare turn around. She was afraid of what she might find.

"Aya." He said again, closer this time. Giving in, the girl turned on her heels and looked up at her brother. Moonlight reflected eerily in her unshed tears; but this affected Ran none.

Casually, he reached out and drew his sister into a tight yet emotionless embrace. "Everything will turn out fine. I promise you. You shouldn't worry so much." Pulling away slightly, Ran reached up and brushed his fingers across Aya's eyes, wiping the tears away.

Involuntarily, Aya shuddered under Ran's cold touch. Biting her lip, the coal-haired girl looked up at her brother to find a small smile on his face. An answering smile forced itself onto Aya's face as she pulled out of Ran's arms and walked away.

It was a lonely and foreboding trip back to her own room. Her footsteps were the only ones that echoed against the stone; hers was the only breath that stirred the air. The short trip seemed to take an eternity as new worries and doubts stole into her mind. Ran was no longer the brother she knew; over the past few months, he had changed so drastically that Aya feared for his wellbeing.

Gracefully, Aya entered her room and closed the door. She didn't have much time; Ran couldn't know what she was doing.

Glancing around the room, Aya swiftly pulled out some parchment and ink. By the dim light of the moon, she set to work on a letter. Youji was close to her brother. Surely the man would know something about Ran. Quelling her anxieties, the girl continued writing, pouring all of her worry and need into her words. Surely, Youji wouldn't deny her invitation, wouldn't deny her what she wanted - no - needed to know. Allowing her worry to disappear for a moment, Aya couldn't help but feel excited at the possibility of seeing Youji again.

******

Yelling, shouting, bargaining, cursing. Horses neighing, dogs barking, the patter of footsteps. Everything merged into one cacophonous noise at the market. People from all over the country, even the world perhaps, could be found shopping and selling their wares. It was an experience that Aya loved. Here, among the people, she could forget her noble blood and mix with the commoners who would normally avoid touching her.

The sight of necklaces and scarves of many colors drew her attention away from the crowd. In awe of the wares, Aya bent over to examine the patterns woven on the clothes and play with the small jewels.

She was so caught up in her fancying that she didn't notice the man casually approaching her. Two hands reached out and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her roughly while a harsh voice battered her ears.

Frightened, a scream tore loose from her lips as she futilely tried to escape. The hands loosened their grip as the voice turned from a yell to a loud laugh. Pulling out of her assailants grasp, the young girl twisted to get away but was stopped by the hold on her wrist.

"Aya!" her name was called out. Stopping, Aya breathed heavily as she tried to recognize the voice. In an instant, she felt both silly and humiliated. Turning with as much dignity as she could muster, Aya faced her former assailant.

"Youji! Don't do that to me!" There was a light, playful quality to her voice that undermined any of the harshness of the reprimand.

The tall blonde had a suave smile for Aya as they continued down the path for a while. They stopped every now and then, at this table or that one, talking idly of anything that came to mind. It was only once they had separated from the main part of the crowd that Youji brought up the reason why Aya had contacted him. "Aya, there was something you wanted to talk about?"

Nodding, Aya stared at the ground a moment as they walked. "Youji, you've been friends with my brother for quite a few years now."

"I wouldn't exactly call us friends." The blonde laughed brokenly. "But we have known each other for some time."

"Does he confide in you?" Pausing at one stall, Aya fingered the cloths that were draped around it.

Youji eyed her quietly before answering. "Your brother isn't the type to talk about his problems freely. You know that as well as I do. What's wrong, Aya?"

Aya refused to look at Youji. Now that the time had come, she was embarrassed about talking to the blonde; it made her feel as if she was betraying her brother.

"Lately, Ran hasn't been...acting like himself. He's more withdrawn. I hear him mumbling to himself a lot. He hardly ever spends time with me anymore. I think he's going to the games a lot more, and he used to hate attending them. I'm worried about him, Youji."

Not answering right away, Youji strayed further down the street. Aya followed hopefully. Both ignored the vendors that called to them. "Are you sure it's not just some business matters?"

"I thought that was all it was, but..." Aya hesitated a moment, "but, I'm sure that's not the problem. I think, I think that instead... I think Ran is becoming obsessed with someone. Someone that he can't have."

Aya didn't notice how Youji's shoulders stiffened slightly nor how he allowed her to catch up slightly. She was lost in her own world for the moment, recalling events nearly forgotten.

"I think that has to be the reason. The last few weeks, Ran has quit entertaining any relatives or anyone with marriage deals. He never liked them in the first place, but now he doesn't even pretend to think about it. Well, Ran has really never liked our family anyway. And... I think I've heard him mumbling about trying to see someone. It was... 'finding a way to see him,' I'm sure."

Dark eyes turned to the older man as Aya clutched her hands together. "Youji, what's going on? Do you know anything about this?"

Ignoring Aya's pleading stare, Youji crossed his arms behind his head. There was a pregnant pause before either said anything.

"Ya know, I wish I could help ya; but I don't know what's wrong with Ran. You know how he is about maintaining his status. He probably wouldn't tell me anything unless he had to or needed my help."

A soft sigh escaped the girl, her hands dropping to her sides. "I... I guess." Coal colored hair floated in the air as Aya shook her head violently. "I just wish I could help my brother. I... I don't like seeing him like this. I want Ran back."

A muffled sniffle alerted Youji to the young girl's pain. Quietly reaffirming his resolve, his hands gripped the stall until his knuckles turned white.

"Thank you, for coming out. I enjoyed seeing you again."

"Aya!" Youji turned and reached out blindly, not really hoping to stop the girl. But Aya did stop; she seemed undecided whether or not to turn, her body facing forward but her head tilted to the side. Cautiously, the blonde reached out and gently pulled her with him. They ended up back in the more crowded section of the market, back where they met.

"I promise you, Aya," Youji began, placing his hands on her shoulders so he could look her in the face, "everything will turn out for the best."

A genuine smile crossed his lips for the first time in weeks as he watched Aya's eyes lighten. Wiping her eyes quickly, Aya allowed herself to return Youji's smile.

A movement by the vendor's stall caught the man's attention for a moment, drawing his eyes over. Lying there on a piece of perfectly ruffled silk was a beautiful necklace glinting in the sunlight. Caught by an impulse, Youji reached for the necklace and paid for it in a moment. With a small smile, he turned and handed the piece to Aya, feeling his heart quicken as the girl's face brightened enough to rival the sun.

"Youji!" she exclaimed, fingering the gift. All words left her; what could she say to such a beautiful gift?

"Here." Without much thought, the blonde reached around the girl's neck and clasped the necklace for her. "I thought you would like it." As Youji backed away, his hand snaked around to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing her skin softly. In a flash, both separated, blushing wildly. It was a moment before either regained their composure. A quick goodbye was spoken as Aya practically skipped through the crowd, her fingers wrapped around the pendant.

Youji waved back as she left keeping a smile plastered to his face. Once Aya was out of sight, however, a scowl replaced his smile as his good mood vanished. It was certainly not good news that he had just received.

"What are you doing, Ran? Do you even know?"