By nekojita   


This fic follows the storyline introduced in ‘Violet Eyes’ and continued in ‘The Bet’.  Reading the first one might help.  Story is slightly au, being a mix of the manga and anime.  It follows the first season pretty closely; some things during the second have/or are going to be changed.  Just a little bit.  Characters aren’t supposed to be ooc, so if they are, blame me.   

Disclaimer:  No I don’t own them, thanks for reminding me of that fact once again. 


  “The fucking bastard.  I should have killed him.  Maybe I still will.  You think Kritiker will buy dear little Kenken being offed during the mission?” 

Aya looked up from buckling his trench coat, and glared at his lover.  Yohji was standing in front of a mirror, fussing with his hair.  It had only been a couple of days since the infamous purple dye incident, and the blond, well, mostly blond, wasn’t taking the change very well. 

“You finally pushed Hidaka too far, so stop complaining.  You want to kill the man, do it on your own time.  Now finish getting ready, we’re supposed to meet the others downstairs in a few minutes.” 

Green eyes glared back at violet, then closed so as to enhance a rather melodramatic sigh.  Trust Aya Fujimiya to not get the point.  It was about more than a simple matter of revenge.  Ken had deliberately assaulted him in a manner that should have been sacrosanct.  How would the younger assassin feel if Yohji burned his precious soccer balls and team jerseys?  Granted, maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to slip that container of lubricant into the brunet’s jacket pocket.  It had all started when Omi freaked out upon finding the tube among the couch cushions, and insisted that Yohji got rid of it.  Not feeling the urge to get up in the middle of watching his show, the older man had stashed the lube in Ken’s jacket, which had been lying on top of the couch.  He really meant to get it out later, honest.  But Aya had come back from visiting his sister, looking so cute with wind-flushed cheeks and tousled hair that all thought besides following his kitten back up to their bedroom had escaped his mind. 

Then Ken had grabbed the coat on his way out to spend some time with those brats of his.  How was Yohji to know that it would fall out later that evening when the athlete was treating the kids to some ice cream?  Or that one of the ankle biters would pick up the tube and ask, in front of several customers, what it was.  Quite loudly.  Apparently one of the brighter brats had picked up on the strawberry flavor advertised on front, and a fight over who got to put some on their treats broke out.  When everything settled down, a rather embarrassed Ken was left standing there, looks of disgust directed his way from the older patrons, trying to figure how the lubricant had ended up in his pocket.  It hadn’t taken long for the assassin to finger a likely suspect.  Hence two days later Yohji stepping out of his shower and finding his honey blond locks dyed purple. 

Tired from a night spent doing surveillance for an upcoming mission, the blond had been too exhausted to notice anything wrong with his shampoo.  In fact, it took several minutes of gazing bleary eyed into the bathroom mirror to figure out what was different.  Yohji had then dashed from the room and down into the kitchen, intent on killing the perpetrator.  It wasn’t hard to figure out the guilty party, with Ken’s face bursting out in a huge grin before he fled the room.  Only the intervention of Omi blocking an enraged Yohji’s path had saved the soccer fanatic’s life.  Aya just sat at the kitchen table during the whole escapade, quietly sipping his tea as he read his paper.  When his boyfriend had finally calmed somewhat down and put on his clothes, the redhead had volunteered to drive him to a hair saloon.  Where the victimized assassin was informed unless he wanted to damage his precious locks even more, he’d better get used to a violet tint to his hair for a while. 

“Kudoh, stop fussing with your hair and move your ass.  Time to focus on the mission.” 

Growling as he zippered up his coat, Yohji followed the swordsman out of their room.  In all seriousness, it was more than his poor hair that was bothering him.  That was just a sufficient excuse to drag his feet over and complain about, instead of the real reason he was upset right now.  He wasn’t too happy with the mission Weiß was about to undertake.  It was the first serious job they’d embarked on since Aya had been injured on the previous one.  Kritiker had limited the group to surveillance and reconnaissance missions while their field leader had healed.  Now, almost a month and a half later and a week of intensive intelligence gathering, Weiß was once again ready to take on the dark beasts of the world.  Or at least of outer Tokyo. 

“Hey Kitten, how’s the shoulder doing?  You sure it’s up to a work out tonight?” 

Aya’s response was all but snarled back, as he scowled at Yohji over his shoulder.  “For the umpteenth time, it’s /fine/.  Now shut up about it.” 

“Huh, love you too sweetheart.”  Did the man have to bite his head off for being worried about the redhead’s safety?  Anyone else would have been touched by a display of concern, but not Aya.  Or more likely Abyssinian.  Yohji recognized that icy tone and flat look to violet eyes; his lover was fully immersed in his assassin personality.  Hell, the man would probably cut his hand off if the blond tried to touch him.  Yet another reason to hate this mission.  Yohji wanted his kitten back, preferably snuggled safely in bed with him, not setting out to kill a bunch of people. 

Arriving at the garage, the two men found their roommates waiting for them.  Ken, sitting on his bike, was clearly eager to start the assignment.  Omi was standing next to him checking his watch.  “It’s about time guys. 

“Probably busy having pre-mission sex,” the brunet mumbled.  Catching the glares sent his way from the older men, he blanched and quickly shoved his helmet on. 

Omi just shook his head as he climbed onto the back of the bike.  He would be riding with Ken to the mission site, while Yohji and Aya went in the swordsman’s Porsche.  “We’ll see you there in forty minutes.  By the south entrance.”  The youth waved as the bike sped off. 

Climbing into the sports car, Yohji wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have bummed a ride off of Ken.   With the way Aya drove, they would be on site within twenty minutes. The smaller man was mostly silent the whole drive, except for growling out “don’t even fucking think it,” when the green eyed man tried to light a cigarette. 

Stashing the car out of sight and covertly making their way to the rendezvous point, Yohji felt his apprehension level rise more and more.  It wasn’t himself he was worried about, but Aya.  No matter how much the rational part of his brain told him the swordsman could handle anything he met up with tonight, the possessive part of him wanted to tie Aya up and leave him in the car.  Which would most likely result in his immediate death at the attempt.  Oh yeah, tonight should be fun, Yohji thought, suppressing the urge for a nicotine fix. 

Aya glanced at his fidgeting teammate.  They still had a few minutes before the others arrived. Weiß was here to stop the production of a compound used in an addictive new drug.  Bombay was to hit the computer system and strip it of any and all information.  Balinese went in as the boy’s backup.  He was to take out the management and anyone else who got in his way, while Siberian was to plant explosives at key production points.  By the end of the night Kritiker expected the place to be reduced to rubble and critical information pertaining to the new drug in their hands.  

The team had been staking out the place for a week now, monitoring its activities.  They knew the layout of the place and the guards’ schedules.  Weiß was not always so well prepared for their other missions.  Kritiker was placing a lot of importance on this job and wanted no mistakes.  Aya suspected that this assignment was why his employers had left the team alone for so long, so they were well rested and healed.  Everybody was focused and eager to do their job properly tonight.  Except for Balinese.  The man was a bundle of nerves this evening.  

About to hiss a query as to what was bothering the older man, Abyssinian paused, catching the sound of footsteps.  Silently turning around, hand on his katana, he saw the two younger assassins making their way over to him.  “Everybody ready?”  Omi asked. 

Nodding his head, Weiß’ leader checked his watch, waiting for the mission to start.  About to give the go ahead signal, he felt a hand tug on his left eartail.  Glancing up, he swatted away Yohji’s hand as he snarled at the man.  “What?” 

“Maybe I should take out the head honchos, and you play back-up for the chibi.”  Noticing that the playboy was completely serious, Aya squashed the desire to yell at the man.  It wouldn’t do to alert the guards.  Luckily, Omi beat him to it, but in a quieter tone of voice than he’d have used.  

“We’ve been over this before, Balinese.  Abyssinian is the best choice to go after the targets.  There’s no time now to argue about this.”  The youth glared at the taller man when it appeared as if he was ready to disagree.  Once Yohji had snapped his mouth shut, the archer turned to Ken and Aya then nodded at them.  “Okay Siberian, Abyssinian, you’re set to go.”  

The brunet merely shifted the bundle of explosives on his back and headed off.  Aya spared one last scowl at his boyfriend, and silently followed.  Once they reached the building’s doorway, the redhead took the lead.  The two remaining assassins gave their teammates a few minutes to take care of any guards in their way before they set off to work. 

Making their way to the computer room, Yohji and Omi found their path clear of obstacles.  It was obvious that the swordsman had taken this route; they paused to better hide a guard’s corpse before the ex-detective set about breaking into the secured room.  Giving the area a swift once-over, he stepped away from the door to let his teammate in. 

“I’ll be a while here, Kritiker wants all the files from the system.  You stay out front and make sure no one interrupts me.”  Omi stared at Yohji until he received a nod in reply, and then keyed his comm set.  “Siberian, I’m in place.  Estimate about twenty minutes before I’m done.” 

“Affirmative, Bombay.  I’ll set the explosives for twenty-five minutes then.  You copy that Abyssinian?”  No reply.  Omi looked up at a suddenly tense Yohji. 

“Abyssinian, did you hear Siberian?  Twenty five minutes before the bombs go off.” 


It sounded as if the man was panting.  “Anything wrong there?” the youth asked. 

“…….  Security is heavier than expected.  Should reach the targets soon.”  The redhead abruptly severed his connection. 

Blue eyes met green, mirroring the worry found there.  “He’ll be fine, that’s why he’s handling the targets.  I have to get started now.”  Sparing his friend one last glance, Omi closed the door behind him and set about cracking the computer’s security.  It was ridiculously easy, just as he had anticipated.  Once in the system, he started downloading files. 

Yohji stood outside the door, forcing his body to stay put.  Aya would be able to take care of himself. ‘Just think of all the times he’s charged head first into a swarm of armed men and was the only one to walk away.  For someone who cares so little for his personal safety, Aya always manages somehow to survive.’  That train of thought really wasn’t helping matters any.  Granted, since the Takatoris were dead and gone there shouldn’t be anything to cause the swordsman to go berserk during battle, but there were a good many other things that could go wrong.  The green eyed man leaned against the wall, trying not to think of what they were.  

Ten minutes later there was a burst of gunfire.  Yohji jumped from the wall, looking towards the direction of the noise.  That was where the targets were supposed to be.  “Aya, come in. What’s going on there?  Are you alright?”  He was all but shouting into his mouthpiece. 

“I’m busy.  Targets are down.”  The man was panting even heavier, and there were grunts and a shrill scream in the background. 

“Abyssinian, I’m on my way.”  Ken’s voice came over the comm. 

Tearing a hand through his hair, Yohji promised himself a long conversation with his lover on how to directly answer questions.  There was another staccato of gunfire.  Looking about the deserted hall, he came to an impulsive decision.  “Fuck it.”  There hadn’t been so much as a hint of anyone in this section of the warehouse, Omi should be fine.  The blond tore off towards the sound of fighting. 

Heading up another level, the blond burst out of the stairwell and straight into of a melee.  Aya was in the middle of it, taking down a cadre of security guards.  Who shouldn’t have been there.  No way did their intel count on so many armed goons being present.  The swordsman was bleeding in several places and favoring his right leg.  Spying someone targeting their gun on Aya, Yohji spun out his wire and wrapped it around the man’s throat.  At the same time Ken came barreling from the opposite side of the room.  Another round of bullets could be heard, this time coming from downstairs.  There was a loud yelp over the communications headphones. 

Claws out and busy tearing into the enemy, Ken helped make short work of the remaining security.  Scowling at his older teammate, he shouted at the playboy while busy gutting a heavy-set man.  “What the hell are you doing here?  You should be watching out for Bombay!” 

Ignoring the brunet, Yohji made his way to Aya’s side.  The smaller man sent him an enraged look, and glanced over at Ken.  “Siberian, go help Bombay.”  The athlete barely paused to finish off another target before racing to the steps. 

It wasn’t long before the two assassins were the only one’s left alive in the room.  Refusing to look at his teammate, Abyssinian limped towards the stairwell, intent on reaching his friends below.  Yohji swiftly followed.  “Aya, wait a minute.  Let me check those wounds for you.”  He moved to place his hand on the other man’s arm.  Jerking it out of the way, the redhead shot a look of pure fury towards the taller man, and in glacial tones hissed out “don’t”. 

Stunned by the venom in that glance, Yohji dropped his hand.  After a moment, he resumed trailing down the stops after the man.  “What was that for?  I’m only trying to help you here.  If I hadn’t had come when I did you’d be full of bullets now.”  Nothing.  It was like talking to a pissed off wall.  The blond knew he’d fucked up in leaving Omi alone like that, but he’d done it to save his lover’s life.  And now the man was blocking him out.  “Don’t you dare ignore me, Aya,” he snarled out, grabbing for the smaller man’s hand.  Distracted by Yohji’s antics, the redhead failed to notice a guard waiting outside the stairwell until almost too late. 

Seeing a glint of metal, Aya shoved Yohji back towards the stairs as the gun went off.  Feeling something graze his side, he brought his katana down on the hand holding the weapon.  Chopping off the limb, he brought the blade back up and across the man’s throat.  Staggering against the wall from the force of the swing, he checked the new wound.  It felt as if the bullet hit a rib, but nothing else.  Teeth biting into lips from the pain, he limped down to where the younger members of Weiß were.  Several bodies were strewn outside the door. 

Looking into the room, he found Ken bandaging Omi’s right arm.  Some cloth was already wrapped against the youth’s forehead.  Computers were scattered about the floor, broken with smoke rising from them.  Both men glanced up at his entrance, weapons ready, and relaxed upon recognizing him.  Sensing Yohji come up behind him, Aya stepped into the room. 

“Siberian, how much time to we have left?” 

“About five more minutes.” 

“Hn.”  Aya gazed down at the wounded teenager.  “You alright?” 

Omi made to nod his head, but hissed in pain at the movement.  “Yeah.  The arm needs some stitches.  They burst in on me during the download, so I didn’t manage to get all the information.”  Realizing that his leader was listing to the side, blue eyes narrowed with concern.  “How about you?” 

The redhead just grunted.  Gazing down at the smaller man, Yohji wrapped an arm around his waist.  Aya stumbled away, violet eyes blazing with rage.  “Let’s go.  /Now/.”  The last part was added for the older blond’s benefit, as he stood there looking upset and beginning to get angry. 

“Stop being such an asshole.”  Once again placing his arm around the slender waist, he refused to allow his lover shake it off.  Body tense with resentment, Aya let himself be assisted out of the building and over to where his car was parked.  

Pulling away from the taller man, he dug his keys out of a coat pocket.  “Bombay, get in the car.  You’re in no condition to ride on the back of a bike.”  The youth didn’t argue, and Ken helped him into the car.  Aya turned to Yohji, face impassive.  “You’ll stay with Siberian, and make sure we aren’t followed and that the explosives go as planned. I need to get Bombay home and patch up his arm.” 

“What the hell about you?  Do you really think you’re okay to drive?”  The blond made to brush back sweat soaked crimson bangs, only to have his hand smacked away.  Aya bit down on the inside of his mouth, trying to stifle the grunt of pain from that movement.  Yohji’s lips tightened in anger as he watched his lover settle himself behind the wheel, face even paler due to the pain.  Eyes following the car until it vanished from sight, he sighed and turned to Ken.  “Moody bastard,” was muttered under his breath as he lit a cigarette. 

Yohji didn’t even see the fist that came at his face and knocked the cigarette from his mouth.  “What the hell was that for, you almost hit me!”  He glared at the younger man, only to meet brown eyes narrowed in a glower that would do Aya proud. 

“Kudoh, just shut up right now.  I really don’t want to hear anything from you.”  It was a pair of green eyes that looked away first; as the older man bent down to retrieve his smoke.  He straightened up just in time as the ground shook from the force of the explosion tearing apart the warehouse. 

Neither man noticed a figure in the distance, watching them. 


It was a quiet ride home.  Considering that the car was occupied by two bleeding young men and filled with weapons, Aya forced himself to not abuse the speed limit too much.  He was also having problems driving steady, due to pain and blood lose.  Omi was curled up in his seat, clutching his wounded arm.  Heaving a sigh of relief upon safely arriving home, Aya ushered the young blond upstairs and to their bathroom.  Reaching into the linen closet, he pulled out an impressive first aid kit. 

“Aya-kun, let me look at you first.  You seem to be bleeding pretty bad.” 

“Hn.”  The redhead just pushed the teenager back down on the toilet, and started cutting off the soaked bandage on his arm.  Realizing that the man was going to be stubborn and the sooner Omi got patched up the sooner he could return the favor, the youth removed his jackets.  

“Oh, that doesn’t look good.”  No wonder his arm hurt so much.  Aya’s lips pressed into a thin line as he set about cleaning the wound.  Noticing how white Omi’s face had become, he paused.  “Do you want some pain killers now?  What about your head?” 

“I don’t think it’s concussed, just hit with some flying glass.  The arm hurts pretty bad though, I think I better take a couple pills now.”  He hated the thought of being doped up, but wouldn’t be of any assistance if he passed out from the pain.  Swallowing the pills he glanced up at his teammate.  The redhead was waiting for the medication to kick in before he resumed doctoring. 

Reflecting on how angry the swordsman had been at Balinese earlier, Omi patted a slender hand.  “You’re really mad at Yohji-kun, aren’t you?”  Violet eyes flashed up, and then refocused back on the wounded arm. 

“What are you going to tell Kritiker?”  The deep voice was very quiet. 

Omi understood what the swordsman was asking.  Their employers were going to be very upset about the loss of data, and looking for someone to blame.  “I’ve been thinking about that.  I can always tell them that I ordered Yohji to help you, since Ken was too far away.  There’s no reason for them not to believe me.”  

That sentence got Aya’s attention.  Once more staring intently into wide blue eyes, the quiet man frowned in disbelief.  “You haven’t told them about Kudoh and I yet, have you?” 

Omi offered the man a weak smile.  “No, not yet.  I was waiting to see how the first few missions went.  I was hoping everything would go well, so Kritiker wouldn’t have anything to worry about.”  The smile grew bitter as both men reflected on the fact that tonight went anything but well. 

Gaze still locked on the younger man, Aya debated asking the next question.  He knew Omi did some snooping inside Kritiker’s databases without clearance, and knew much more about that organization and Weiß than he should.  “Do you think they suspect anything?” 

Omi went to shake his head, but remembered his injury in time.  “I don’t think so.  Nothing’s been commented on, at least.  But it’s only a matter of time, especially after tonight.” 

“The fucking idiot”.  Omi couldn’t say anything to that, Yohji had been spectacularly stupid to allow his emotions to mess up the assignment the way he did.  Kritiker didn’t take kindly to those types of things.  If there was a problem or a distraction within a team, the organization would just remove the troublesome element and replace it with something else.  In Weiß’ case, that meant one or two new members. Yohji and Aya would be split up, and in all probability never allowed to see each other again. 

Aya was thinking similar thoughts.  He was so angry with the playboy, he could hardly concentrate on his task.  What the hell had possessed the moron to deviate from the mission plan like that?  The redhead would much rather have risked a gunshot wound or two than to have his lover screw up the assignment the way he had.  Nevermind the fact that the older man obviously didn’t believe Aya could take care of himself, but he had jeopardized both of their lives with his actions.  Not to mention Omi’s and Ken’s.  Add to that what their employers could do to them for the failure, and it had been sheer stupidity all around. 

It wasn’t possible for Aya to quit Weiß at this point.  He had tried once, and returned for the money and protection  Aya-chan needed.  The swordsman had made many enemies all too willing to strike at him through his defenseless sister.  Kritiker literally had him by the balls because of this fact, and wouldn’t hesitate to use his precious imouto against him if he tried to leave again. He suspected the only reason he’d been able to leave before was the fact that with Persia dead, the organization had been in too much disarray to deal with a lone assassin.  As soon as they’d regained control though, his former employers had sent Botan and Birman to fetch him back. 

If Kritiker forced him to choose between his only surviving family member and his lover, Aya-chan would win out, without a doubt.  Didn’t Yohji understand this?  He’d already sacrificed too much to let her go.  If there was any hope for their relationship, they had to develop a balance between Weiß and their personal lives.  The one couldn’t interfere with the other.  But considering tonight’s disaster, Kritiker could rightly assume that the necessary balance wasn’t attainable, and steps would be taken to correct the situation if things continued to be messed up. 

Shaking the depressing thoughts from his mind, he noticed that Omi’s blue eyes had a slightly dilated appearance.  The painkillers must be kicking in.  He quickly finished cleaning the wound.  “I need you to hold still, this is going to require some stitches.”  The blond only closed his eyes and braced his arm in response. 

Ten minutes later, the arm was finished.  The redhead was by no means a skilled surgeon, but the past couple of years had taught him enough medical knowledge that he could do a pretty decent job of sewing a body back up.  Bandaging the wound, he moved on to Omi’s forehead.  As the boy had commented, it was mainly just cuts from flying debris, and mostly needed cleaning.  Two of the cuts required a couple stitches each, just to keep them from re-opening.  Omi’s bangs should cover the head wounds nicely, but the blond was not going to be able to use his arm for much the next few days.  He tapped the youth on the shoulder to let him know he was finished. 

“It’s your turn, Aya-kun.  Out of the jacket, right now.”  Aya had been hoping to tend to himself, but Omi’s eyes glittered with determination.  Sighing, the older man commenced unbuckling his coat.  He had to pause at one point, weak from the pain as blood-caked cloth tore away from several wounds.  His coat would need a professional cleaning and some mending. 

Omi hissed in sympathy at the injuries and clothes saturated in blood.  “Aya!  You should have let me dealt with these first.  You’ve lost a lot of blood.  Get out of those clothes now.”  The youth tried not to wince at the sound of soaked cloth smacking onto the floor. 

There was a bullet wound to the leg, which Aya had tied off before but was once again bleeding freely now.  That required a painful cleaning and several stitches.  As did the bullet wound to the man’s left side, which had broken two ribs.  The rest were grazes from bullets or knife cuts.  The redhead sat on the edge of the tub, clad only in his boxers, as Omi patched him up.  Since it was just the two of them at home, Aya wanted to have his wits somewhat about him.  He only took half of the pain medication that the youth handed to him.  Omi hadn’t been happy about it, but understood the logic behind it. 

The teenager was finishing up the job when the rest of Weiß returned.  Yohji came barging into the bathroom, searching for his redhead.  He stopped at the sight of the bloody outfit on the floor and the amount of bandages covering flesh almost as white.  He stood there in silence until Omi was done.  Noting the icy violet glare directed at him, the older man decided to wait until they were alone to get into it with his lover.  “How you feeling, chibi?” 

Hearing the soft, worried tone, Omi managed a half smile at the tall blond.  He knew that Yohji hadn’t meant for him to get hurt, but the man had complicated all their lives quite a bit with his actions tonight.  “I’ve been better, Yohji,” upon seeing the man’s crestfallen face, he decided to add “but then again I’ve been worse.  I’ll live.” 

Standing upright with extra care due to the medication and exhaustion, Omi started to gather up the first aid supplies.  Yohji moved to help him.  “Let me take care of that, why don’t you just go to bed.  I’ll be sure to call your school and let them know you’re going to be sick the next couple of days. 

The youth blinked at him.  “There’s no need for that, I can make it to school in the morning.  Besides, I have a paper to turn in.” 

Yohji snorted.  “Kiddo, you can barely stand on two feet, and you want to go to school?  Just take it easy.  One of us will drop the paper off if it’s that important to you.” 

Omi glanced over at Aya, looking for some help.  Noticing the beseeching blue eyes, Aya turned to disagree with the older man.  “Omi can go to school tomorrow if he feels up to it.”  That earned a glower at the younger men from Yohji.  “But no working in the shop for the next few shifts, understand?”  The youth smiled gratefully at the swordsman.  Trust Aya to know how important school was for him.  Just as the quiet man was worried over how Kritiker would respond to his relationship with a fellow teammate, Omi was anxious about being allowed to continue with his education.  Without Persia to protect him anymore, he realized that if the schoolwork interfered with his real job, the order would come down for him to drop out.  At least he could count on Manx and his friends to try and prevent that from happening. 

Once again sapphire eyes met violet.  “I’m going to turn in the mission report, and then go to sleep.  Why don’t you two get some rest as well.” 

Aya watched the teenager leave, and then bent down to retrieve his work outfit.  Or tried to, anyhow.  Being a bit stiff and very sore, he couldn’t manage the task before Yohji reached down and grabbed the stuff away from him.  Grimacing from the feel of the clothes, soaked with clotting blood, Yohji graced the smaller man with a stern gaze.  “I’ll clean up in here, you go to bed.”  Not about to argue over a quick escape, Aya just limped out the door. 

After wiping up the blood and throwing the redhead’s clothes in the washer (except for the coat, which would be turned over to Manx for cleaning and repair), Yohji went back upstairs.  Not surprised to find his bedroom empty, he walked down the hall to Aya’s room.  Without bothering to knock, he entered inside to find the smaller man in the process of getting dressed as if he planned to go out.  “Where the hell do you think you are going?” 


“Really?  Here I thought you wore jeans and sweaters to bed all the time.  Why the hell are you going out?  You need to get into bed before you collapse.  And don’t even think of arguing with me, I just wiped several pints of your blood off the bathroom floor.” 

The man just finished getting dressed.  Picking up his jacket, he walked over to the door.  Which Yohji was standing right in front of.  “Out of my way, Kudoh.” 

Great.  Aya was still pissed off at him.  “No.  And if you think you can take me in your condition, you’re even crazier than I give you credit for.” 

“Fine.”  The redhead walked over to the window and proceeded to open it. 

“You really are fucking nuts!”  Yohji grabbed a slim wrist and yanked the smaller man away from the window.  He didn’t notice the other hand spin around and clout him on the side of the head.  Startled by the blow, he let go of Aya’s wrist, and the redhead rushed for the door.  Or tried to at least.  Do to his leg wound he couldn’t make it in time before an enraged blond gripped him around the waist and threw him on the bed.  Gasping in pain, Aya just laid there as Yohji sat on his stomach and held his hands down on the bed. 

“Alright lover, you’re mad at me, and now I’m not real fucking happy with you.  So I screwed up tonight.  I’m sorry.  There, I apologized.  Are you pleased now?  Nevermind the fact that I probably saved your life tonight, fuck no, you have to be in a shitty mood about it.  World can’t go round unless Aya Fujimiya is pissed as all hell over something.” 

“Something?”  Did the baka have no fucking clue what he’d done?  “Are you seriously telling me you don’t know what the hell you did wrong tonight?”  The blond just frowned down at the redhead. 

“First off you make it pretty damn clear that you don’t trust me to take care of myself, let alone my assignment.  Did you honestly think I’d be happy about that little fact?”  Before the older man could once again babble on about rescuing him, Aya decided to fill him in on how aware he’d been about his situation.  “I saw that asshole with the gun, and was keeping someone between me and him until backup arrived.  Which would have been Ken, two seconds after you showed up.  I’ve been in worse circumstances before, and you never gave a damn then.  What do you think, just because I let you fuck me I can’t protect myself anymore?  That I need Yohji Kudoh to keep me safe from harm?  If you seriously think that, then this whole relationship is over /as of now/.  I refuse to have a lover who won’t treat me as an equal.”  The mere thought of how little faith the older man had placed in him made the redhead furious.  His lover doubting him was something Aya didn’t need, he did that enough himself.  He was quite serious about the threat, no matter how much the possibility of breaking up hurt. 

It looked as Yohji was going to say something.  Aya didn’t give him a chance.  “But all this is probably a moot point by now.  What the hell do you think Kritiker is going to do when they find out Weiß isn’t as effective anymore thanks to one of their assassins thinking with his dick rather than his brain?  You imagine they’re just going to let me sit out missions so your caveman sensibilities can be appeased? Or let you keep fucking up the jobs from now on because you don’t trust me to watch out for myself?”  It was clear from the stunned look on the man’s face that Yohji hadn’t factored Kritiker’s role in their relationship.  “And what about Omi and Ken?  How can they trust you to protect their backs when you’re too busy worrying about me?  You keep going on about how I could have been hurt earlier.  What about Omi?”  Guilty silence met this last remark. “You nearly got him killed, disappearing on him like that.”  The pain of his wounds forgotten in his fury, Aya tensed his body, ready to throw Yohji off him the first chance he got.  He was so upset at the older man he just wanted to be out of his presence and given time to try to get his emotions under control. 

Yohji kept opening his mouth, but nothing came out.  He’d never stopped to think about anything but keeping his lover safe.  Not about the others, or how his bosses would react when they found out the job wasn’t successful.  All because of the way he’d reacted.  ‘You really screwed up big time, Kudoh.’  And now Aya was threatening to leave him over the way he’d acted.  Gods, that didn’t even bear thinking about.  What he would do if the man ended their relationship.  Or if Kritiker sent Aya to a new team.  Hell, he’d didn’t know what was worse, to lose him to another group or see him every day, knowing what he’d thrown away through stupidity.  Not knowing how to get himself out of this mess, the blond bent down, intent on making the redhead respond to him.  To make him feel something other than anger and contempt.  

When the pale man twisted his head to the side, hissing in anger, Yohji focused his attention on the man’s exposed neck.  This tactic had worked before, it /had/ to work now.  Mouth and lips caressing tender skin, reveling in the way the smaller man tasted, the blond let his weight rest more heavily on the swordsman.  It felt so damn good to have that lithe body under his.  There was no way in hell he was letting the man leave him.  Shifting about to so he could grind his tumescent erection against Aya, he heard the younger man gasp out loud.  If possible, Aya’s body became even more tense under his.  Glancing up, he noticed his lover’s blanched face, and the blood spilling from a bitten lip.  Oh shit.  Aya’s wounds. 

Rolling swiftly off of the injured man, Yohji stroked back red hair as he apologized over and over.  “Sorry, so sorry Kitten.  Shit.  Sorry, I forgot all about you being hurt.  Look at me, baby, tell me you’re okay.  I’m so sorry.  Please lover, just look at me.” 

Aya just laid there for a moment, eyes closed and trying to breathe through the burning sensation that spread over his left side and chest.  It had hurt so fucking much when Yohji had leaned against his wounded ribs.  Which he had gotten because of the stupid man.  Anger returning to help banish the pain, just a little bit, the redhead found himself able to sit up.  Pushing aside the older man’s fussing hand, Aya gazed back at a concerned countenance.  An equal mixture of pain, anger and exhaustion swirling inside darkened violet eyes, the slender man slowly levered himself off the bed.  “I’m going out for a while.  If you want me to forgive you, just…”  pausing to try and clear his head of conflicting emotions as much as the hurt expression on Yohji’s face, Aya rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “Just leave me alone for a bit.”  He headed for the door, each step a painful jarring of his body, and closed it behind him.  There was an all-night café a block over that he could go to, try to sort things out over several pots of tea.  What he was going to do about him and Yohji, and about Kritiker.  If he thought for one moment he had the strength to drive to the hospital and sneak in without passing out, he’d visit his sister.  As it was, he would be pressing his luck with the café.  It was just that he had to get out of the same house Yohji was in, before he or the blond did something that they would regret for a long time to come.  If that hadn’t already happened. 

Yohji watched his lover limp out of the room, plainly ready to collapse.  Forcing himself to remain on the bed and not chase after the man, the blond tugged the comforter over his cold body.  The scent of his lover filling his senses, the blond wracked his brain trying to find a solution to patch things up with the younger man. 


Whistling to himself as he entered the office, hands deep in pants pockets, Schuldich walked over to the front of large desk.  Increasing the volume of the music, he smirked when the dark haired American looked up from some paperwork to glare at him.  “Well?”  Crawford snapped out. 

“You mean you don’t know, Bradley?”  The German’s smirk was evident in the tone of his voice. 

“Don’t call me that.  Just tell me what happened tonight.” 

Sitting down on top of the desk, the red haired telepath messed around with the piles of paper covering the furniture.  “The kittens survived, although two were a bit battered in the process.  Guess you tipping off Teshi about being paid a surprise visit made Weiß’s job a little difficult tonight.  Not that Teshi and his gang got out alive.  Building was reduced to rubble.” 

“So Weiß pulled off the mission after all?”  The American’s voice was flat, not at all a questioning tone.  

“Really Bra…” evil glare “ah Crawford, why do you bother with this little routine all the time?”  Cold blue eyes glared at the telepath from behind wire-rimmed glasses.  “Very well, yes Weiß pulled off the mission.  Or at least part of it.  They destroyed the plant and everyone inside of it, but I sensed they weren’t happy about something.  Too far away to pick it from their minds without alerting them to my presence.  Which you most strictly told me not to do.” 

“Hm.”  It figures that the one time the annoying man followed his instructions to the letter, it would be now.  Not that the precog needed any more information.  Schuldich confirmed what his vision had shown him.  Weiß hurt and thrown off balance.  That would help Schwarz in the upcoming weeks. 

<Mind telling me what tonight was about?> 

“It’s simple, just causing our little friends some trouble.  We don’t want them at their best in the coming future.  Did you notice anything else about them tonight?” 

<Everyone was angry with Balinese for some reason.  Especially Abyssinian.  Why didn’t you want me to scan them?> 

“You’ll find out shortly enough.  Now leave me alone, I have work to do.” 

“You know what they say, Crawford, about all work and no play.”  Quickly shuffling the papers about, the telepath jumped from the desk, waving off the glower his teammate sent after him.  ‘Bradley’s hiding something.  I think I need to check up on the kittens, and see what they have been up too.  Abyssinian in particular.’  It had been so exhilarating, feeling the burning rage filling the swordsman, even from such a distance.  All that anger, mixed with pain and the ever-present guilt and self-doubt.  Such a delicious stew, bubbling away in that pretty head.  He really had left his kätzchen alone too long.

Watching the German stroll out of the room, Crawford massaged his temples, trying to make a headache go away.  It was only a matter of time before the telepath found out what the two Weiß had been doing.  That moment was going to make his job all the more difficult, trying to reign the man in.  Although it would help to un-balance the white knights all the more.

Return to Archive

Next Chapter