Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ What No One Knows... ❯ Making It Up to You ( Chapter 3 )

~Chapter 3~

The sound of a bird singing was the noise that next roused Aya from his slumber. It took him a moment to piece the previous night back together, but when he finally did, the first thing he did was tug experimentally at his bonds. Much to his surprise and utter relief, he found his hands unrestrained and in front of him. Cautiously, he opened first one eye, and then the other. Once they had focused, he realized his surroundings were strikingly different. He was now lying on a bench in the middle of a small park. He assumed it was the very early hours of the morning - just after sunrise. All of his clothes were back in place, including his ripped shirt. What was going on here?

Shakily, and with no small amount of pain, he stood, limping and trudging his way back the two or so blocks to the Koneko. There, he could rest and hopefully sort out this whole mess. And when he was better, he could get revenge on those bastards who defiled him. After much too long a time, he made it to the door of the flower shop, realizing it was not yet open and the door was still locked. They always kept an extra key hidden close by for an occasion such as this, and with only a bit more effort, Aya was upstairs and in his room, collapsing weakly onto the bed that smelled distinctly of Yohji. Comforted somewhat by the scent, he curled into a ball and fell into an uneasy sleep.

~*~

The sound of the alarm clock came as a very unwelcome greeting to Yohji's ears. Reaching out with one long arm, he silenced it and rolled onto his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. It was Monday - 9:30 Monday morning, to be precise. The Koneko opened at ten on weekdays, and he had to open it with Omi. Normally, Omi would be in school and he would open with Aya, but in their current situation, substitutions were necessary.

Although it seemed rude to do so, the blond wondered why they couldn't just leave the shop closed and declare it a holiday. Who had time to flirt with giggly, underage girls when there were more important things to do - namely finding Aya? Why couldn't the mission have just gone off without complications? Now, not only did they neither eliminate Schwarz nor get Aya-chan back, they were missing one of their own teammates.

It didn't help that the playboy was blaming himself for what had happened. If they hadn't fought before the mission, perhaps things would've turned out differently - at least that's what he had convinced himself. He had told the redhead to make sure he came back, so why didn't he? Maybe he purposely got captured so he wouldn't have to continue our dispute, Yohji wryly mused. No, if avoiding me was his goal, he would've simply done just that. There *has* to be something really wrong. If he could only make it through the day, perhaps night would bring with it some answers - or if he were truly lucky - it would bring back Aya.

The blond showed up downstairs roughly five minutes before his shift began - long enough to grab a cup of coffee and have a smoke. Omi greeted him with the same cheer as always, if a bit reserved given the circumstances. Everything just seemed a bit more somber than usual that day.

"Any new info?" the playboy softly questioned as he turned the sign on the front door to read `open'.

The boy simply shook his honey-colored head and replied, "I checked again this morning, but I still couldn't find anything. It looks like all we can do is trust that Aya-kun will find his way back to us at some point."

Yohji buried his face in hands, quipping, "I just can't stand this waiting; it makes me feel so hopeless. And I can't help but think it's somehow my fault because we had a fight before the mission."

Omi eyed him curiously as he made his way around the store, watering any plants that particularly needed it. Letting that curiosity get the best of him, he innocently asked, "What were you fighting about, Yohji-kun? It's not like you two to actually have a serious fight."

"Eh?" the playboy brought his head up. He was so lost in his own thoughts, his youngest teammate's inquiry almost didn't register. "Well…" he began, "the mission mostly." It's not a lie, he told himself, it's just not the whole truth.

A small pout formed on Omi's lips and he remarked, "It's understandable, I guess. I know Aya-kun was eager to get his sister back, but he was being awfully rash." There was an expectant pause before he continued, more upbeat this time. "In any case, Aya-kun is strong. I'm sure he'll be back soon. Don't worry."

Yohji grinned and tousled the boy's hair on his way to the back room. Don't worry, huh? We'll see about that.

~*~

Things didn't seem to be going well for the lanky blond. By the time his shift finally ended, he had been reprimanded by both Omi and Ken more than usual for daydreaming, breaking pots, and being almost completely useless to anyone. In fact, his younger teammates were so worried about his uncharacteristic behavior they sent him home early.

In truth, Yohji was having the hardest time focusing on work. No matter how much he tried, he could only think about Aya. Even though they never spoke much when the redhead was normally around and the playboy found himself routinely ignored, somehow now the absence was blatantly obvious. He wasn't sure if it was only because of the so-called "tryst" they shared, but it made him feel uncomfortable for some reason.

So Yohji decided that a long, relaxing shower would likely ease his nerves a bit. There was nothing quite like the spray of hot water to make the body feel good. Gathering the necessary tools for the job, he made his way down the hall to the shower. While all four boys had bathrooms in their respective rooms, the only shower was at the end of the hall. When he reached the bathroom, he noticed the door was closed, but just as he reached toward the handle to open it, the door swung open and he came face to face - almost quite literally - with…

"Aya!" the blond blurted, shocked beyond any further speech. Though the redhead looked a bit battle-torn, he was alive and breathing and *there*. Yearning to know if he was real, the playboy's arms came up, gripping his lover in a tight embrace. Immediately, the swordsman hissed in pain, and Yohji drew back. Concernedly, he gasped, "K'so, Aya! You're hurt that bad? What happened? Is anything broken?"

"Nothing's broken, Yohji," the redhead replied with a wince, pushing his way past the blond toward his own room.

"Well then, what happened to you?" the playboy pressed, following his lover.

"Schwarz," was the only answer he got before the door began closing on him.

Quickly, the blond reached out, holding it open and calling out, "Oi! What happened, Aya? If you won't tell me, at least let me patch you up."

Aya scowled, growling, "No. Just leave me alone, Yohji."

"You can't resist forever. I could tie you up, you know," Yohji smirked playfully.

Suddenly, the swordsman's violet eyes grew wide with fear and he backed away from the door, shouting, "No! Stop it, Yohji!"

Both curious and worried by the redhead's reaction, the playboy cautiously stepped into the room. "I'm just trying to help you," he softly stated, closing the door behind him. Aya remained standing across the room, eyeing him warily. "Listen, if you don't feel ready to tell me what happened yet, that's okay; I understand. But you have to let me treat your injuries for you or they'll get infected. You're already looking a little feverish. I just…don't want to see you hurt, Aya."

The swordsman was mulling things over in his head. I'd rather have Yohji tend to me than anyone else, he thought, but if he sees my wounds, I'm certain he'll figure out what happened. It's either lose now or die later, I suppose. After a long moment, the redhead nodded almost imperceptibly. "Just…don't judge me too harshly."

The blond let out a sigh of relief and gently took Aya's hand, leading him back to the shower. "I'm going to go get my first aid kit. I'll be back in a sec."

When he returned, the redhead was standing just as Yohji had left him. "Let's get you out of those clothes and assess the damage," he instructed with a kind smile.

After holding a brief staring match with his lover, the swordsman relented, hands going to the hem of his sweater and slowly pulling the dark material up, baring one red mark after another on his ivory skin. Finally, the sweater was completely off and dropped to the floor, and Aya found that he couldn't bring his eyes up to meet the blond's. Instead, he turned his head to the side, gaze focused on the counter to his left.

The playboy was certain the redhead heard his gasp as soon as the injuries were visible. It was fairly obvious - even to a moderately trained eye - what had happened to him. He had numerous claw marks on his shoulders and sides, and even more love bites scattered across his torso. All signs pointed clearly toward rape. There wasn't anything he could think of to say that could possibly make the swordsman feel any better about his condition.

So *this* is how Schwarz gets even. I can't even begin to imagine what that must've been like for him, Yohji thought with a deep sense of remorse. If I had only known where he was, I might've been able to prevent this. But I was completely useless to him when he needed me the most. "Are you injured anywhere else?" the blond gently asked.

Startled from his thoughts, Aya softly answered, "A-Aa," fingers finding the button on his pants. This is going to look worse than all the rest combined. Pants and boxers fell to the cold, tile floor simultaneously, exposing various bruises, more claw marks, and the painfully obvious gashes marring his abdomen.

Yohji somehow managed to school his face into a reasonably unreadable expression, rather than the wide-eyed, shocked one that would have normally been there in such a situation. "I'm sorry," he whispered, eyes downcast.

The redhead frowned angrily and spat, "Don't feel *sorry* for me, Yohji. It might have just as well been *your* fault. I don't need your pity; I don't want it, and I don't want it from anyone else."

The blond frowned as well and let himself be reprimanded, as he felt deserving of the cruel words. However, he was quick to correct his lover. "I didn't mean I felt sorry for you. I'm sorry because I was useless to you. I wanted to find you *so* badly, but we couldn't track you down - not even Omi could. So instead, I did nothing, and I knew nothing of your pain. I failed you as both a teammate and…a lover. And I deserve any punishment you see fit to give me."

To that, Aya didn't know what to say. He wanted to stay angry at the playboy, he truly did, but he just couldn't seem to. Yohji was doing a pretty good job of punishing himself as it was, and he was just so completely exhausted - both emotionally and physically - that he couldn't find it in him to protest any longer. "Just…treat my wounds. If you take it upon yourself to look after me until I'm better, then *that* can be your punishment."

The blond smiled, opening his first aid kit and retrieving a bottle of antiseptic and several rolls of gauze bandages. "Have a seat on the toilet then, and I'll patch you up." He worked mostly in silence, knowing he would never be able to smoothly bring up such a touchy subject.

"When did you get back here?" he finally asked, certain it was probably the most he could get out of the swordsman - for the time being.

Aya tensed and winced slightly at the sting of the antiseptic on his rope burned wrist before replying, "Early this morning some time before you opened shop."

The playboy digested the information and remained quiet, only instructing, "I need you to stand up now so I can get to those cuts on your abdomen." At length, he added, "I'm afraid the one below your belly button will probably need stitches. If you think you can take just a little more pain, I can do that for you if you'd like."

Standing, the redhead nodded. "Yohji?"

"Hm?"

"I don't want…the other one to scar. Do you think you could -?"

"Don't worry," the blond interrupted. "I'll do the best I possibly can. Hopefully, you won't be able to see *any* of these marks when they've healed." He turned his attention back to the task at hand, sparing no time for wavering thoughts.

"Thank you," was Aya's last statement. He couldn't help but think that Yohji's touch was not intimate. Compared to either Omi or Ken, it probably was, but it didn't feel quite like the caring touch of a lover. In truth, the swordsman was glad for this. Perhaps the playboy knew he wouldn't want to be touched like that, or perhaps he wasn't sure where their unconventional relationship stood now. In either case, it worked to Aya's advantage.

They were in the bathroom for nearly two hours before the blond decided his redheaded teammate had a satisfactory amount of bandages. Granted, Aya would still have to wear turtlenecks and long sleeves for at least a week to cover the love bites and the wounds on his wrists, but thanks to his efforts, hopefully he'd heal quickly and with few scars.

"Oi, Yohji, you in there?" a voice suddenly shouted. "Hurry up; I wanna take a shower."

Ken? The playboy glanced at his watch - five o'clock. I didn't realize we had been in here that long. The shop's closed already. "Aa, we'll be out in a minute," he called out. Looking over at the swordsman, he nodded, an unspoken agreement passing between them.

The brunet's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "*We*? Should I even ask who's in there with you?"

Slowly, the door opened a bit, and Yohji stepped out, buying his lover some time to put his clothes back on. "Aya's in there," he whispered. "He came back this morning, apparently, looking like the cat dragged him in. I was fixing him up. Just don't ask him any questions; he's not ready to talk about it, okay?"

For a moment, Ken looked incredulous - until the aforementioned redhead brushed past him without so much as a hello. He was about to turn around and say something when he remembered the blond's words. Shrugging, he went into the bathroom instead.

Yohji decided to give Omi the same information about Aya as he had to Ken before visiting the swordsman in his room. The boy seemed overly pleased and very understanding about the situation - even going so far as to promise to keep Ken in line until things had cleared up a bit.

The playboy entered the redhead's room with a small grin playing on his lips. After shutting the door, he came over to sit on the bed next to his lover. There was a period of silence between them before the blond suddenly spoke up. "Oh! Have you eaten today? You must be hungry. Can I get you anything?"

It hadn't really even occurred to Aya that he hadn't eaten since the previous night, but since Yohji brought it up, he realized he could definitely use at least *something* in his stomach. "You could make me an omelet…and some tea would be nice."

"Sure, whatever you want. How do you top your omelet?" While the playboy wasn't exactly chef material, he wasn't too bad in the kitchen - unlike certain *other* Weiß members, namely Ken, who had a tendency of burning most of what he cooked.

"Just veggies - onion, pepper, tomato, mushrooms, and a little cheese."

On his way out the door, the blond called, "I'll be back in a few."

Once he was gone, the redhead leaned back against the wall, looking down at his wrists and fingering the bandages there. What was Yohji to him anyway? Obviously, there was something there beyond simple lust, or he wouldn't have let himself be taken care of like this. Part of it, he concluded, was a self-imposed challenge of sorts. He wanted to see what was between them now, after what had happened during his captivity. If he had been well when he returned, perhaps they would've already shared several kisses. Though that wasn't the case, he had inadvertently allowed Yohji the closest contact he could tolerate in such a situation. He was pleased with the results in any case, and even moreover by the fact that the blond didn't shy away from him, all things considered.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the honey-colored head that poked into the room. "Aya-kun?" Startled, the swordsman looked at him. "M-May I come in?"

"Aa."

Almost shyly, Omi approached the bed, not quite sure what to say. "I'm glad you're back with us," he spoke at length. "How are you feeling?"

Bluntly, Aya stated, "Like shit." At his teammate's saddened pout, however, he felt obligated to add, "But I have a very good servant now, so I should recover soon. Don't worry yourself." Playfully, he ruffled the boy's hair.

Omi smiled and rose from the bed. "I saw your `servant' in the kitchen cooking up something or other. It doesn't surprise me that he's so willing to do this for you. When you were gone, Yohji-kun was hell-bent on getting you back. I had never seen him so worried before. Anyway, I just thought I'd see how you were doing, so I'll be on my way now. I hope you feel better soon." With a wave, he left, leaving the swordsman something new to ponder.

Before he got the chance though, the playboy returned, carrying two plates on one arm, and two mugs in his other hand. "Dinner is served," he proclaimed, handing a plate to his lover. He sat down on the bed and they ate together, making meager conversation between bites.

"Thank you," Aya softly stated when their meal was done.

"It's no problem. I'm glad you liked it."

"No," the redhead corrected, "not just for dinner, but for bandaging me, and…for not turning away from me."

Yohji had known this topic would arise eventually. With a soft sigh, he stared the swordsman in the face, explaining, "Look, it obviously wasn't your fault, Aya, so there's no reason why I *should* turn away from you. Whether you'd admit it or not, I think you need someone right now, and I want to help you." Gently, he clasped his lover's hands and continued, "I know you probably don't want to be touched by anyone after what happened, at least not for quite a while - and that's completely understandable. But when and if you *do* feel ready again, I want to be there for you…if you'd like."

The redhead was staring directly into the blond's verdant eyes, just waiting for some catch, but finding none. "I think…you may be right…and I appreciate your offer." He dropped his gaze, but continued to keep his hands in Yohji's, marveling at the warmth he felt there in contrast with his own. Maybe little touches like this wouldn't be so bad.

Things were silent for a while, until the swordsman spoke up again. "Will you…stay with me for a while? I don't want to be alone right now."

The sheer desperation of the plea surprised the blond. Normally, the redhead *liked* to be alone, and would do anything to have that luxury, but clearly after being at the hands of the enemy for even one night, Aya needed the comforting presence of a friend, of someone who *wouldn't* hurt him. "Of course," the playboy answered. "Anything you want."

Aya seemed to relax at this, and rose to lighten the room from the darkness of the setting sun. Before returning to his bed, he paused at his desk to retrieve what looked to be a leather-bound journal and a pair of glasses. Yohji eyed him curiously from his lounging position on the bed. It was clear from the way he walked that there was somewhere else he was hurting that couldn't be bandaged.

The blond wasn't sure exactly what he should be doing, aside from keeping his lover company, so he decided to occupy his time by browsing over the numerous books shelved around the room. While the swordsman wrote, he found his eyes drawn more and more to the bed's other occupant. Granted, he had never seen Aya with his reading glasses on before, but it was more than that. There was a certain quality about the redhead that he couldn't quite name. He was clearly more rigid-looking than before - which was practically a given - but it was almost as if fear lingered behind the impassive expression. And as long as they had known each other, he didn't think there was *anything* that could possibly make the swordsman afraid. If he wasn't careful, Yohji knew his curiosity would overwhelm him, and it wouldn't be for the best if it did.

Aya finished his writing and returned both the journal and his glasses to their proper places. When he came back over to the bed, the playboy decided to put his plan into motion. Sliding behind his lover, he gently laid his hands on the knotted muscles of his shoulders, careful not to aggravate any wounds.

"Y-Yohji, what are you -?" the swordsman began, moving away from the blond.

"Shh…you looked really tense sitting there," Yohji explained with a smile. "I know you don't want to be touched, but I thought you might like a massage." Before Aya had a chance to protest, the playboy's fingers were moving, kneading the tense muscles of the redhead's shoulders and neck, pressing and soothing with a touch too soft to hurt, but too firm to feel anything but wonderfully relaxing.

The swordsman let out a soft sigh as his lover's ministrations began to take effect. Yohji was right; he needed this. All the agony of the previous night faded from his mind as he felt his body meld under the warm caress. His head fell back against the blond's chest, and the familiar, fresh scent that hit his senses told him he was safe here, in these arms.

The playboy noticed Aya was growing increasingly heavy against his chest, so he gently lifted him off, whispering, "Oi, if you're gonna fall asleep, you might want to change out of those clothes first."

Wearily, the redhead nodded, allowing his sweater to be pulled off and a more comfortable tank top to take its place. After changing into a pair of pajama pants, he slipped beneath his covers, warily questioning, "Stay until I fall asleep?"

Yohji's only reply was a grin as he sat down next to his lover, watching as his breathing evened out and he fell into what was probably not a very relaxed slumber. His hand fell to smooth back the unruly crimson locks, and he whispered, "I hope your dreams are good ones," before quietly departing from the room.

~*~

"…I'd rather hear your screams than your words. Maybe they'll be loud enough to wake your sister, hmm?"

No, he couldn't scream, didn't want to, didn't want *this*. Where's Yohji? Help me…please.

"…Very well then, if you insist on being the girl…."

It was double torture - roaming hands and sharp blades.

"Let's see if you really are a *true* redhead."

Red…just like blood…blood that seemed to be everywhere. It was leaking out from inside him, smeared across Farfarello's smirking lips. He was certain he would die from this yet. Where is Yohji? Come save me. Yohji…Yohji…

"Yohji!" Aya awoke with a start, only faintly aware that it had all been a dream, just the mind's extension of reality. When he finally regained some of his wits, he was surprised to find a pair of strong hands holding his arms. "Yohji?" he questioned, a note of disbelief in his soft voice.

"Aya, are you all right?" the blond worriedly repeated, noticing the redhead was cognizant now. "You were yelling my name in your sleep. But it's okay now; I'm here. Don't worry." Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around his lover, feeling the tension throughout his body loosen.

The swordsman wanted to cry, yet no tears would come. How could he have been reduced to this? It made him feel so helpless and so…filthy. He couldn't understand why the playboy would even want to be near him anymore. But, whether he'd admit it or not, he was glad for that. Maybe he could overcome this yet. As long as he had Yohji…as long as Yohji was here…

Gently, the blond laid his lover back down to bed, stroking his cheek with careful fingertips. "Go back to sleep now," he instructed. "You need it. I'll stay with you for a while if you want."

Aya smiled gratefully and settled against his pillow. Somehow, the blond just seemed to have a way of making him feel protected - as if even bad dreams wouldn't be able to reach him here. Perhaps one day, he'd figure out why that was, but at the moment, he was too exhausted to think any further.