Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction / Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Never Goodbye ❯ Your Pain is the Worst I've Felt ( Chapter 3 )

Your Pain is the Worst I've Felt

 

Tonight had been bad. Yohji opted for going out, getting shit-faced and laid beat dealing with the oppressive atmosphere of their apartment any day. Ken, an athlete to the core, left in his running gear after they had got back from the mission. It would take him a few hours to run out of steam and then most likely spend the rest of his energy lifting weights in his room. Both men were so much better at ignoring the uncomfortable vibes than little Omi.

 

Using the handheld vacuum, Bombay took time before writing up the mission report to suck up all the white dust and bits of plaster from the thick living room carpet.

 

Everything had gone perfectly. Weiss were all in their designated positions, weapons were ready, surveillance had paid off with clear sights of where all the target could possibly be, and Aya had gotten into the underground fight club without a hitch. His figure and features were that of all the other angry, desperate young men looking to support themselves. Oh, if only they knew! Everything was perfect, until Takatori Reiji appeared in the crowd.

 

Still keeping to the initial plan, the owner of such a cruel club met their death at the end of Aya's ready katana, but then the swordsman took off after Takatori. Omi knew all about his partner's past, knew the hatred for the older man that burned within the redhead's veins, and deep down knew his yelling at him through his earpiece to stop would go unheeded. Bombay could only pray for the best as he tried to get out of his air vent position. Aya long gone toward the roof exit by the time he escaped.

 

What met him stirred so many emotions inside his petite body. This would be the first time he had seen the infamous Reiji in person. A cruel smile was plastered on his face as his helicopter rose above them. Aya's howl of anguish and rage could be heard over the whirring blades of the propeller, shaking Omi to his soul. So much pain, so much hate. He could hardly stand it. Takatori leaving alive meant that the Fujimiya family's vengeance was delayed once again, and it broke his heart knowing what kinds of dark things were fluttering around in Aya's head.

 

After that loss of control, Aya spoke not a word. Brushing by all of them he left and Omi had to hurry; the man was his ride after all. The trip back to their apartment was unbearable. Silence crowded the black sports car, but trying for any kind of conversation would have been suicide on the kid's part. He wanted to say something, anything to get his partner out of his gloomy orbit, but he was absolutely helpless against the demons wrapped around his psyche. They all pulled into the garage one after the other and went into their haven, all tiptoeing around Abyssinian.

 

Yohji and Ken spoke in quiet tones, Omi not at all, and it seemed the night's stress was over. Until the statuesque assassin roared his frustration and fury once more and landed his fist against the wall. Before anything could be said, Aya rushed out of the room, disappearing upstairs behind a slammed door. Soon after, Yohji informed them all not to wait up, and then his leather-clad self was gone. Ken abandoned the house minutes later. Now it was only Omi left alone with a cracked and broken wall for company.

 

He couldn't just leave him alone. Giving his partner an hour to calm down, Omi made his way up the stairs armed with a cup of cherry tea. His partner. Just a few months being on the same team as the redhead and Omi was completely taken with him. He'd do anything for him, including braving his wrath if it meant him not drawing back inside himself. The older boy's room was dark, the occupant at the window seat looking at the sky. In such an industrial city it was impossible to get a clear view of the stars. Yet pained, dark eyes would not lift from their vigil; even knowing someone was encroaching on the personal space. Aya could guess who ventured into his domain.

 

Omi took small, careful steps inside and nearer. There wasn't a fear of being hurt, Aya could be unpleasant toward him, but never was he violent. All threats of death and maiming were saved for Yohji and Ken. Setting down the delicate teacup, Bombay now looked about the room. Abyssinian's signature black trench coat lay on the floor, leather gloves scattered to either side of the floor, and the contents of his dresser-top lay about as if swiped off. It seemed the wall wasn't his last victim of the night.

 

At that thought Omi remembered wanting to take a look at the swordsman's hand. Approaching made him tense and he stopped his movements instantly. “Aya-kun, please calm down.” His teeth worried his bottom lip as Aya continued to ignore him, a slight tremble to his taut form. “Please drink this tea at least.”

 

Violet eyes fluttered to the sweet, steaming liquid by his knee but he made no move to retrieve it. Finally he had gained some sort of a response! However the silence began to choke the room and Omi started to think he would have to give up for the night. Well, if Aya wouldn't drink the tea he could still use some ice for his knuckles. Omi sighed and reached for the cup. The sudden movement snapped Aya out of his thoughts and in an instant long, slightly swollen fingers were wrapped around the archer's smaller wrist.

 

His own pain vanished when Omi saw the damage Abyssinian had caused himself. “Oh, Aya-kun.” He turned in the stiff grip until he was free, his own fingers capturing Aya's hand.

 

“It's fine.” Aya found his voice after his shock of the contact wore off.

 

Blue eyes narrowed, “You didn't break anything, but it is far from fine.” Without letting Aya have a chance of throwing him out, Omi disappeared into the small bathroom, coming back with a small first-aid kit every room's bathroom was stocked with.

 

For the next fifteen minutes Omi worked in silence. He didn't mind so much anymore. Because Abyssinian was most often than not quiet, one learned the differences. There was the kind of quiet that meant someone was close to dying, and then there was the peaceful, companionable stillness that enveloped the redhead and his surroundings whenever he zoned out long enough to forget his pain for a moment. Now was one of those times. Before he knew it, Omi had cleaned and medicated the abrasions on his knuckles and set a cool pack against his swelling wrist.

 

Gathering everything up to leave, Omi noticed the lax shoulders of the swordsman suddenly tense. There was a tremble and a slight hitch in breath and then nothing more.

 

Omi wanted to touch him.

 

His partner, so strong and cool, was in so much pain and he could nothing for him. No words were needed, thought of, or welcome, so Omi only laid his hand atop Aya's shoulder. The expected batting away of his appendage never came and Omi smiled when Abyssinian's uninjured hand covered his and gave a minute squeeze in return before falling away once again.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Any time.” Aya refused to look at him but it didn't matter. “Get some rest, Aya-kun.” Closing the door and leaving the man to himself wasn't so hard after that.

 

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Procedure really sucked. It seemed since this was the afterlife, one would not have the ability to be bored. Such an emotion was so mundane, so mortal, and yet here he was - bored out of his skull. Deep, chiming laughter broke the silence of the office and Omi looked across his desk to see Asato grinning at him.

 

“I can't take this anymore, that meeting took a lot out of me.” Omi gave a small smile, cheeks reddening as he realized his older partner had witnessed his fifth consecutive yawn.

 

“Konoe-san has that effect on people.” Asato laughed again, this newbie was highly entertaining.

 

“I'm going to go to the lounge for a soda. If you do one more file, I'll bring you back something.” He stood and couldn't help but smile as his words made Asato squeal his delight at such promised rewards. Already the boy had caught onto the man's obsession for all things edible.

 

Upon entering the nicely furnished lounge, Omi made a beeline to the one vending machine in the whole of JuOucho. That Tatsumi was a very frugal guy.

 

“Hey, it's Sunshine!” Omi smiled at the now familiar nickname and batted away the playful hand ruffling his caramel-gold hair.

 

“Watari-san.” The young shinigami bowed before grabbing at a bottle of blue, fizzing pick-me-up his brain was screaming for. “How is the latest invention coming along?” The others ran and hid from said inventions, but Omi found them and their creator absolutely fascinating.

 

“A few setbacks, but nothing I can't handle.” Yutaka poured himself a large cup of coffee and sat down to talk to the newest talent in the guardian department. “I hear your last case went very well.”

 

“Well enough.” Omi shrugged, not looking away from the variety of snacks he was picking out of.

 

“Taking care of a namanari solo is `well enough' indeed.” The paired guardians had become separated, Tsuzuki couldn't have made it in time, and Omi had shown them all, unintentionally, just why he was let go from training early. “You have a knack for exorcising.”

 

Omi turned, armed with sugar and pop, gave his superior a flashing smile, and then bounced out of the room. Yutaka watched after him, pondering long after he was left alone. It was always rare to have such young spirits become shinigami. The last being Kurosaki Hisoka, and they couldn't have been more contrasting in personality. The scientist found the teen interesting. Three months as an active shinigami and the boy was not even hinting at his gruesome and tragic end. Not many people knew, Omi never would bring it up, but Yutaka found out none-the-less.

 

His fascination came from the fact that while everyone here had some form of a reminder of his or her death, Tsukiyono-chan was completely scar-free. He knew this because everyone had to go to him for monthly physicals. From the beginning there were rumors of his ghastly demise, and upon seeing such unmarred flesh, Yutaka had to investigate further. Finding the kid's coroner report sent him reeling. Omi shouldn't have come to them endearing and sunny. Yes, it was all very exciting. Almost as much as Tsuzuki-san's regenerating abilities. With a sigh, Yutaka stood and made his way once again to the boardroom.

 

On his way back, Omi saw the door to their office was wide open, no one inside, and the distinguishable whine of his partner from the boardroom. Another meeting. Inside he found his boss, Tatsumi, the crazy little bird with the beret, and Asato slouching in his chair as he waited for whatever his boss was going to show them. Omi gave a small smile as all eyes fell on him and he swiftly moved into the hard seat beside Asato. The older man beamed when Omi discreetly slid the bag of cherry candies under the table and into his lap. Omi was a lifesaver! When Watari entered the room, the meeting started.

 

“Before I begin, I want to say good work both of you on your last case. In light of seeing that you both are capable of quite a bit, I am assigning you to another case. I was going to wait until Kurosaki-san was back to help out, but now I have no reservations concerning Tsukiyono-san.” Konoe-san nodded to the two guardians before him.

 

“There has been a string of grisly murders, disappearances, and strange phenomenon happening all over Japan. The hot spots are Kyoto and Tokyo.” Konoe-san kept shifting his gaze to Omi and his heart raced with rising suspicions. “The bodies that are found are horribly disfigured and there has been some speculation that there is dark magic and ritual involved.”

 

“Any idea who is behind this?” Asato asked his boss, serious and completely void of his usual cheer.

 

“We do.” Konoe-san again looked at the youngest guardian in the room and Omi stilled his emotions, meeting his boss' gaze. “Tsukiyono-san, if at any time you feel you can't—”

 

“Konoe-san, you have nothing to fear, this is why I joined the legions of shinigami.” Omi was hard and steely, blue eyes daring anyone to challenge his claims.

 

“That is excellent to hear, but this might be a lot more complicated than that.” Konoe-san signaled for Watari who stood to display images on the large display screen.

 

“These six civilians all disappeared from two years ago to four months ago.” Watari said as he placed six photos on the projector before clicking a button and video footage began to play. “In this surveillance tape at a parking garage in Kyoto where a murder victim was taken, we see the same people.”

 

Asato and Omi leaned forward, indeed seeing the six on the footage, only now they were in black shrouds and far from the smiling beings they once were. Watching closely, Omi could see something not quite right about them. The three men and three women were silent, not even making noise as they moved and their bodies seemed to jolt and spasm as they walked about.

 

“They're reanimated.” Tsuzuki stated, not liking what this was implying.

 

“Excuse me,” Omi finally decided to speak while he could manage. “You said `dark magic and ritual', what I ran into had no form, no organization except for the sake of violence. These things killed just to kill.”

 

“Who's pulling their strings?” Asato looked to his younger companion, sympathy and warmth flooding his eyes. “If they didn't use a ceremony with their victims, there's a good chance that they are doing the sacrifice after their controller sets them off.”

 

“That's hard to say. We haven't heard much about this until this footage was confiscated and sent our way, but whoever is doing this has got to have a vast knowledge of voodoo and possession.” Watari paused, looking at Tsuzuki from over his slipping frames. “But, this being Japan, who all do we know with this kind of arsenal?”

 

“Muraki.” Omi hid his surprise, hearing for the first time such acid in his partner's voice.

 

“The doctor has lain low for quite some time, this fits his style.” Tatsumi looked through a few papers taken from the case file before looking at the pair. “It is safe to say he is no longer healing from the Kyoto incident, I don't think I have to tell you two to be extremely cautious.”

 

“Of course. What is our mission?” Asato stood, ready to leave the meeting.

 

“For now, you are to go down to Tokyo and find out all you can about these trapped souls. Do not engage if you don't have to. Be quick and thorough, this is to be dealt with as soon as possible before the body count rises even higher. Here are the expenses for your three days.” Tatsumi stood with the envelope of the hotel address and money. His blue eyes flashed as he stopped midway in giving Tsuzuki their expenses, instead handing them to Tsukiyono-san. “Don't forget to bring back souvenirs.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Omi smiled, laughing at the fallen face of the older shinigami. As they left the headquarters, his spirit felt on fire. Finally a real case and the beginnings of stopping those that had destroyed every happiness he ever knew.