Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ World Curled Dark ❯ Chapter 1

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

World Curled Dark
by scribblemoose & Gwendolyn Flight

1 - Confession

It was nearing dawn. The sky was purest lavender to the west, and the full moon rode silver in an otherwise lonely heaven. Snow powdered the line of roofs and had drifted into the corners of the fire escape, limning the railings and steps. Ran shifted in his curled position on his fire escape landing; he'd lost the urge to shiver long ago. His breath misted, and a playful wind fluttered his crimson hair and the tangle of leaflets in the alley below.

The moon sank another degree. The sun would rise soon, and soon Omi would venture into his room with a tray of invalid's food and a pot of tea, both of which would go untouched. And soon Omi and Aya-chan would leave for school, as though everything were perfectly normal, perfectly sane.

It would stay that way. It had to.

He curled in a bit tighter, hugging his knees to his chest though his wounds protested the move, his ribs twinging and his belly singing fire. It was all the same. It was just like before.

His head drooped, and he rested his temple on his knees, watching light creep over the city out of the corner of one eye. The fire escape railings filled his vision, striping the lavender sky in wrought iron. This was not despair, welling within his breast, crying to his wounded heart.

"You should tell her."

"Yohji," he acknowledged flatly, not deigning to show his startlement as the man climbed with giraffe's grace through his window, all long limbs and doe's eyes.

"She already suspects, Aya, if she--"

"It's Ran," he said. As if it mattered. Yohji paused, sighing as he carefully lowered himself to sit beside him.

"Sorry," he said, once he had brushed a spot clear in the dry frost and settled into place. "I know that, I know what it means to you;" and cut a glance to Ran's too-pale face. "I just forget sometimes."

"Hn," Ran grunted, and then catching sight of Yohji's pleading green eyes, added, "Don't worry about it."

The lavender west melted to grey. The first rays of the morning sun shafted the waking earth in glimmering gold. A car purred down a nearby street, then another, and a sparrow began to scold some trespass.

"She means everything to you," Yohji said, staring carefully into the growing light. His voice was sad. "I can understand that. But, Ran, you can't hide this forever, she's a bright girl, she'll--"

"Hate me forever," Ran growled. "You don't understand, Yohji, you can't. She is innocent. I don't deserve her love." He looked down then, violet eyes bleak. "I shouldn't deserve her love. I don't deserve to be loved by anyone."

"It's a bit late for that," Yohji said dryly.

"What?!" Ran met his gaze again, violet eyes blazing with sudden anger.

Yohji rolled his eyes, fingers moving instinctively to his cigarettes. Ran growled, and Yohji let the nicotine craving lie.

"I'm only saying that you are loved, in spite of... No, that's not it. We don't love you in spite of your actions, but because of them." Yohji pierced him with his most intent gaze. "You are not just a murderer, Fujimiya Ran. You always had your purpose, and your faith: Aya. I do understand, I do. You would do anything for her, and that kind of love..." Yohji looked away. "Don't be ashamed of that, Ran. Never be ashamed of it."

Ran didn't answer; he stared for a moment more at Yohji's closed profile, then lowered his head again to his knees. Yohji's breath plumed in the morning air, but he too ignored the cold.

"You're smoking again," Ran growled, glaring out across their dismal view.

"Yep," Yohji agreed peaceably, settling his long-limbed body next to Ran's, poking his legs through the balcony railing to swing his heels over the street. "At least I came outside this time."

"Hn." Ran returned flatly.

"Are you alright, Ran-kun?" Yohji asked quietly, carefully staring into the dawn-washed sky. "You should be in bed," he continued, flicking his cigarette to tumble gracelessly to the alley floor.

"I'm fine," Ran said, voice grating with finality. The hospital had told him so, after all. As he'd pointed out repeatedly to Yohji, and Omi, and Aya-chan when they fussed around him. He just needed peace. Just peace.

"Aya-chan..."

"Shut up!" Ran's harsh words caused Yohji to flinch back, but at least he'd stopped talking. "Don't say another word, Yohji."

"Oh, fine," said Yohji.

"Yohji," Ran growled in warning.

"You should be in bed," Yohji repeated, recklessly.

"Fucking leave it!" Ran finally turned his gaze on the other man, violet eyes burning. Anger boiled up his throat like acid. "I don't need anything, I don't want anything, just go inside and leave me alone!"

His words wounded Yohji. That had been his intent. Green eyes, injured and pleading, met his glare.

Yohji smiled.

"Told you that'd never happen, Ran-kun," he said, emphasizing the 'kun', peaceably returning his gaze to the sprinkling of stars that had emerged. "You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

"Then I'll leave," Ran snarled, grasping the rail to haul himself to his feet.

He pulled.

His stitches pulled back.

"Aya!"

Yohji's voice. He opened his eyes into an immediate glare, knowing exactly what he would find.

Indeed, Yohji leaned over his prone form, green eyes anxious, hands fluttering. Ran grunted.

"I'm fine," he said firmly, waving Yohji aside so that he could lever himself back into a sitting position. Perhaps a slower approach...

"It won't matter to her, you know."

"You can't know that," Ran said, his voice faltering as he settled into place.

Yohji put his face in his hands, and ran them back through his hair. "Why does it matter so much to you?"

Ran didn't answer. The wind swirled a brief fall of snow from the roof.

"Tch. Fine," he said. He sounded weary.

"Because," Ran said after a moment.

"Yes?" Yohji prompted gently.

"Because it's not just that." His hands clenched, and he stared at them as though fascinated. "I have... other secrets, other lies."

"Ah," Yohji said, mostly to buy time. "And you can't tell her these other secrets, either?"

"No!" Ran said, suddenly panicked. "She can't know! Ever!"

"Okay, okay!" Yohji said, putting up his hands in the universal sign for surrender. "She won't know. Why?"

"Why?" Ran repeated, with a blank look.

"Why won't she know? Why can't you tell her?"

"Because I... Because I don't know," Ran said, glancing away. "I'm not... I don't know."

"Ran..." Yohji shuffled a bit closer, green eyes sad. "What is it?" he asked, voice entirely gentle.

"I..." Ran wouldn't look up. He was shaking now, though not from the cold.

"C'mon, let's get you inside," Yohji said after a pause. "You shouldn't be out here at all, Omi'll have your head..."

"No," Ran whispered.

"Please, come inside," Yohji asked, tentatively reaching to touch Ran's arm; his fingertips brushed cloth. Ran flinched.

"I... I need to stay out here, Yohji," Ran said firmly. His mission voice. The hesitation was barely noticeable. "You go inside."

Why couldn't Yohji leave him alone?

"Ran?" Yohji was puzzled now, his brows wrinkling as Ran curled further in on himself, touching his nose to his knees. "What is it? What's going on?"

"Nothing, just... Just go inside, Yohji."

"No! Not until you tell me what's wrong with you." Yohji said forcefully, taking a firmer grip on Ran's elbow. Ran jerked away. Yohji snarled. "What is your fucking problem?!"

"You!" Ran shouted, finally breaking free only to fall onto his side. Cursing how weak he was. Since Schion... He met Yohji's confused stare with blazing violet eyes. "You're the problem, Kudoh!" Yohji blinked at him, hurt and a little stunned. Ran's voice dropped. "Just... go inside, Yohji. Everything's fine when you're inside."

"What are you... I don't under... What is this?" Yohji said slowly, staring at Ran as the smaller man curled himself into the landing's far corner. A small drift of snow had been dislodged, and floated gently down to sparkle crimson hair. Yohji racked his brains to recall any transgression, but could think of nothing. Ran wouldn't look at him. "Is this...?" His eyes narrowed. "Ran... What's that other secret you're keeping from us?" he asked, voice low and a little dangerous.

Ran's eyes squeezed shut. As though he were in pain.

"Don't, Yohji, just don't," he whispered. Tightly, holding himself in.

"Ran," Yohji said, his voice softer, pleading. "You can tell me, Ran, you know you can tell me anything." He edged closer, regaining lost ground. "What is it? Some kind of trouble? You don't want Aya to know..." he said, thinking out loud in soothing tones as he inched toward the swordsman. "Is it some kind of trouble? Debt-collectors finally catch up to you?" he continued, letting a bit of gentle humor creep into his tone.

"No, it's... nothing that will affect the team, okay?" Ran said, so quietly that Yohji had to lean forward in order to make out the words. He grimaced.

"This isn't about the team, Ran. It's about you." And me, apparently, thought Yohji, still unable to think of anything he might have done. He finally secured a position nearer his teammate, creeping in next to him so that their bodies touched in a line from shoulder to hip. Ran hadn't flinched away, but still refused to look up. He looked... ashamed, Yohji thought, staring at the closed profile. "What is it? Something illegal? Look, whatever it is, we'll help you take care of it."

"No!" Ran whispered. "They can't know, the others can't know!" His knees were hugged to his chest, and he hid his face against his thighs.

"Okay, okay," Yohji agreed immediately, bumping Ran a bit with his shoulder, just a gentle reminder. "I won't tell them. You can trust me, Ran. Whatever it is, whatever you need. You won't shock me," he said, voice light. "I can handle the truth. Anything, Ran. Just tell me what it is. Let me help you," he continued, pleading now as Ran just curled in tighter. His stomach would be a bloody mess after this, Yohji was sure of it, and he bit down hard on the impulse to just drag Ran inside.

"Please," Yohji said again, moving imperceptibly closer, and placing tentative fingers on Ran's knee. "Please, whatever you need. What do you need, Ran, just tell me. What do you need?"

Ran shuddered a little, and his head came up from the circle of his arms. His eyes met Yohji's; they were wet with unshed tears. He opened his mouth as if to speak, paused, bit his lip, and leaned toward Yohji just a bit.

"You," he whispered, voice so broken Yohji could barely make out the word. "I need you." And ducked his head, a blush climbing his pale cheeks, and kissed Yohji on the cheek.

Yohji froze. A car hummed past, its radio blaring the latest Gackt. Ran's lips trembled against his skin, petal-soft. After a moment of eternity, Ran drew back.

"Oh God," Yohji heard. Ran drew back into his protective huddle. He was shivering.

"What was that?" Yohji said, distantly. His hand raised numbly to his cheek, which still felt the impression of those lips. Ran was...?

Ran was shaking now, something like tears tearing his voice ragged.

"Just go away, Yohji," he said desperately, hugging himself so tightly his tortured ribs were binding his breath. "Just go inside."

"No," Yohji said firmly, apparently regaining his senses as the moments fled. "Not until you tell me what that was. What did you mean, you need me?"

"I'm sorry," Ran cried, a choked sob, utterly repressed, breaking the words. "I'm sorry, just ignore it, please, please..."

"I..." Yohji stared at him, lips slightly parted, eyes wide. Then he scowled. "No, Ran, I'm not ignoring this, I can't just ignore this. What did you mean?!" And he grabbed Ran's shoulders, as if intending to shake the truth out of him.

Ran flinched.

"Ran?" Yohji asked softly, his fingers loosening their grasp. "Ran, I'm not... I wouldn't... Just tell me what you meant, okay?"

Ran didn't uncurl from his protective huddle. His heart was breaking.

"Ran, I meant my promise," Yohji said, voice even softer. "Whatever you need. Just tell me why you said that."

"I don't know!" Ran cried, voice ragged and muffled by his knees. "I don't know. I just... you make me feel... I don't feel anything, and you make me feel..."

His cheeks were wet now, and Yohji bit his lip to keep from saying anything, to keep himself from ruining this moment as he shuffled Ran into his arms.

"No," Ran whimpered feebly, Yohji's body so warm and good. He nuzzled his cold-numbed nose against soft cotton, horrified at the tears that stung his cheeks. Giving up everything, his whole precious, dangerous secret in one moment of surrender to Yohji's gentle holding.

"It'll be okay," said Yohji, uncertainly. "We'll work something out."

Ran had no idea what that meant. Or if Yohji meant what it was supposed to mean. He tried to think, his mind blurred and weakened by injury and weeks of near-starvation. An idea sprang, garishly clear, to thought: that he was going to die here, right now, weak and pathetic as a kitten curled in Yohji's arms. As if now that he'd given up his secret, there was nothing to live for.

He knew there would be rejection, probably soon, and he didn't think he could bear it.

"How long, Aya?" asked Yohji quietly.

"Ran," sniffed Ran automatically.

"Sorry. How long?"

"It doesn't matter." Ran went to free himself from the trap of Yohji's embrace, but Yohji held him fast.

"I didn't even realise you were-"

"Don't," said Ran.

"And when you say you want me, you mean..."

"It doesn't... I..." Ran fumbled for words, found none. Unable to explain something that he barely knew himself.

"I mean, I always thought maybe one day you and Sakura..."

Ran stiffened, and managed to pull himself away properly this time, huddling against the cold railings.

"I'll take that as a no," said Yohji, scooting up to him again. No escape now, just the railings and Yohji's warm body, unless he could get up and-

"No. No Sakura, not anyone. Never was. Never has been. Anyone. It's best it stays that way. I-"

"Let me help," said Yohji, softly. "Please. Trust me."

Trust?

"It'll be okay," Yohji repeated, more confidently this time. His hand rested on Ran's knee, warmth seeping through his palm to soothe his frozen bones. "Now come on. You should be in bed. You're still weak, you shouldn't--"

"Don't, Yohji." The words felt as if they had been torn from his belly. This... thing, that Yohji was doing, this sympathy and understanding, when Yohji couldn't possibly understand, or care...Ran couldn't bear it. He rested his chin on his knees, not daring to look at Yohji, and watched a brace of doves flutter past their balcony to the roof. Fixing his eyes on the world beyond the railings, trying desperately not to think.

"Omi made soup," Yohji said quietly. His shoulders were slumped. His hand crept to the pocket of his 501s for a cigarette; Ran forced himself not to object as he lit it.

"I'll eat something later."

They both knew that was a lie.

"I've got to open the shop," said Yohji, glancing at his watch. He sounded numb, confused. "You should go back to bed. Please?"

"In a moment." Ran fixed his eyes on the urban tangle of high-rise buildings through the railings, narrow alleyways strung with laundry, and powerlines ribboned like Yohji's garrotte.

He made absolutely sure he didn't watch Yohji leave.