violet eyes


by nekojita

Disclaimer: If you seriously believe that I own Weiss, there’s this Irish gentleman by the name if Farfie that I think you should meet. Maybe you can compare meds……



 “Uhmm, Aya-kun, I don’t think that is working….. again,” replied a nervous and exhausted Omi.  The Koneko no Sume ie was filled with dozens of excited school girls all flittering about driving their favorite bishounen florists crazy, and had been doing so for the past several hours.  Aya, Ken and Omi were tired from the constant requests for flowers and attempts at flirting the girls were besieging them with.  Omi eyed the redhead with apprehension as Aya’s patented death glare was being given to everything and everyone in sight.

 “Man, are these girls ever going to leave tonight?  We should of closed a half hour ago,” mumbled Ken.  He was frantically trying to ring up the sales in an attempt to empty out the store, but was being thwarted by a register that was not in the mood to cooperate.  Wishing he could attack the appliance with his bugnucks, he smacked the side of it yet again to get it to open for change.  “Where the hell is Yohji at?  He should have been back from the deliveries hours ago to help us out. If he skipped out on us again, the man is going to find pink hair dye in his shampoo real soon, I swear.”

 Heading to the register in order to help out his brunet teammate (and coincidentally enough away from Aya, who was gripping the pruning shears rather tightly with his “Shi-ne” expression creeping upon his face), Omi frowned.  “He has been avoiding the shop lately, and is barely home anymore.  I hope there is nothing wrong.  It’s not like him to miss out on the afternoon rush.”

 Ken turned to his younger friend, a wry smile breaking out on his face.  “You mean the after-school fan girl mob?  Don’t worry, the problem is that Yohji is lazy, and more than likely is holed up in a bar somewhere, flirting with some pretty thing.”

 Omi smiled back, about to say something, when a fresh mob of school girls stormed through the front doors.  Barely suppressing a groan, Omi was about to politely tell the young women that the store was closing when a loud shatter broke through the chatter.  Everyone turned to sound, only to find a very, very irate Aya standing next to the pot he had just thrown to the floor.  “That is it, we are closed, LEAVE NOW.”  The girls (and the two boys) stared in shock at the look the redhead was giving the room.  Ken couldn’t remember ever seeing Aya glare like that without there being an adult Takatori in the room.  The girls just stood there for a second, dazed, and then began leaving the store in a shell-shocked manner.

 Heaving a sigh of relief, Omi watched the girls file out of the store.  When the last one had cleared the door, he quickly turned the sign to “Closed”, and was about to pull down the shutters when a familiar silhouetted entered the threshold.  “Busy day?’ inquired Manx, eyebrow raised as she took in the flock of school girls heading down the street, the broken pottery on the floor, and the exhausted florists.  Behind him Omi heard Ken mutter “great, there goes watching the game tonight.”

 “Konban wa Manx, another mission?”  Omi asked, dreading the answer.  After the day he was having, the young blond was really looking forward to a quick dinner and then some quality time on his computer.  Now he was faced with a disturbing debriefing stuck in a small underground room with a depressed soccer fanatic and a homicidal sword wielder.  Joy oh joy.

 “Correct Omi,” Manx said as she headed for the mission room  “where is Kudoh at

The glare of death that had slowly been leaving Aya’s face came back full force at the question.  Manx glanced back in time to catch the look, and this time both eyebrows went up.  “Is there something wrong?”

 “No, just…  Yohji being Yohji,” sighed Omi as he settled on the couch.  “So what is the mission this time?”

 Manx started to pass out folders as she filled in the three members of Weiss present.  Omi blanched at the pictures he caught sight of when he opened the packet.

 “There have been a series of gruesome crimes in one of the city’s entertainment districts, located primarily around several gay bars.  All of the victims have been young men who frequented those establishments.  The first two victims were found badly beaten.  The next three had been raped as well.  The latest one died shortly after being discovered, due to massive trauma.  However, all of the men were found with their eyes removed.”

 The two younger members sat in silence, eyes focused on the gory photos.  Aya spoke up for the first time since Manx had entered the building.  “The perpetrator is escalating the violence.”

 Manx nodded her head.  “We fear that he will move on to outright murder very shortly, probably the next victim.  He seems to strike every three weeks or so.  The last man was found this morning, meaning you have less than a month to find the attacker.  Someone will have to stake out the bars the young men have been taken from, and act as bait.  Can I count on the three of you to handle this case?”

 Omi glanced at his friends, and seeing their grim expressions, nodded to Manx.  “What about Kudoh?”  inquired the red haired woman.

 Ken shook his head, “It’s probably safe to say no.  No pretty women to rescue, and he’s been, well, rather unreliable lately.  We can use him to mind the shop as we work on this project.”  At least I think we can, the brunet thought darkly.  Yohji’s behavior had been rather erratic lately, and the other members of Weiss were at a loss to guess why.

 “Well, I will be off then.  Good luck, White Hunters.”  With a final wave goodbye Manx left the room, off to pursue more Kritiker business.

 Omi shuddered as he closed his folder, knowing the images of the beaten faces and empty sockets would stay with him for quite a while.  “It would be easier if Yohji was in on this case though.  We are going to need someone on the inside at one of these bars, and Yohji’s usually the best at this type of undercover work.  Guess it’s up to us three to decide who will go in.”  He turned to smile weakly at his teammates, and let out a “meep” at the expressions on their faces.

 “You are NOT going to work in one of these places Omi,”  Ken growled, as Aya nodded his head, a dark look on his face. 

 “Well, that leaves the two of you,”  Omi huffed back, upset about them doubting his ability to perform the mission while being secretly relieved.  The bars in this area were known to have a rather… risqué reputation, and he wasn’t sure he could pull off working there without spending the next few weeks permanently embarrassed.  He couldn’t quite suppress a grin, however, as he glanced at his two friends.  If Omi thought that he might have a problem working at one of these bars, he could only imagine how the other men would cope.

 Ken looked flustered as it appeared the same thought had crossed his mind.  While the soccer fanatic would have no problem getting a job, with his handsome face and athletic build, Omi couldn’t imagine Ken being able to handle job for possibly several weeks, let alone one night.  He wasn’t the best actor in the world, and he had an unfortunate tendency when uncomfortable to be quite a klutz.  He’d probably be fired after one night of spilling drinks on and tripping over the customers.  Still, the only other option would leave Aya.

 Shaking his head, Omi tried to imagine the redhead working at one of these notorious bars.  With his beautiful looks and startling coloring, he would probably be hired on the spot.  However, the redhead’s icy demeanor and his seeming inability to be social to, well, anything, would most likely get him fired even quicker than Ken.

 Similar thoughts were going through Ken’s head at the same time.  Silently cursing Yohji for his current absence and undependability, the brunet steeled himself to speak up and accept the undercover assignment.  Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he suspected, he thought darkly, as he opened his mouth to say he’d take the job.

“I’ll take the undercover mission.”

 Ken and Omi could only stare in silence as they did their best carp impersonations.  They both could not believe what they had just heard.  Aya??  Volunteering to wait tables at a disreputable bar?  The man who could barely be civil while working in a flowershop was willing to work in a place where he’d more than likely be hit upon and have to interact with other people for almost a month?  Omi closed his mouth with an audible gulp as visions of Aya slicing apart the customers with his katana filled the blond’s head.  Ken found himself blushing furiously as for some reason an image of Aya, dressed up as a Hooter’s waitress in hot pants and a tiny shirt, appeared in his mind.

 Taking the younger assassins’ silence as acceptance, the swordsman began walking towards the stairs.  “Omi, I need you to go through the information Manx left and pick out which bar would be best for me to work at.  Ken, you will be back up, checking up the other bars and any leads Omi and I come across.  We’ll start tomorrow night.”

 Startled back to reality, Omi called out to the departing assassin “Aya-kun, are you sure?  Wouldn’t you rather wait and see if maybe Yohji would be interested after all?  I mean, he might….”Omi found his voice cut off from the look the redhead tossed over his shoulder before continuing up the stairs. As a frigid “No” drifted down, Omi shivered slightly.  Beside him, Ken whimpered “Scary Aya, very scary Aya.”  Omi could only nod his head in agreement.


 Heading up to his room, Weiss’s swordsman found himself pondering the new mission.  The next few weeks were not going to be fun, he thought.  Aya did not relish the idea of working in the types of bars the victims had been picked up in.  Still, of the three Weiss assassins working on the case, he was the best suited for the undercover assignment.  Omi, with his chibi looks, would probably never last a shift, trained assassin or not, and as for Ken, the guy would probably die of a brain hemorrhage or blood loss from nose bleeds.  He seriously doubted that either of his teammates had much experience with gay bars, let alone rather seedy ones.  Unbeknownst to them, Aya had worked a similar case when he had been involved with Crashers.  He doubted the bar Omi picked out for him could be any worse than the establishment he had spent over a week at for that job.  It had been so bad that one of his fellow teammates, Knight in fact, had had to pose as Aya’s “boyfriend” to ensure that the young man had some protection.  The case had been early on in Aya’s stint with the group, and him and Knight had not been pleased with their assignments.  Aya couldn’t imagine this mission being much worse than the past one, just potentially longer in duration.

 Still, he mused to himself, it would almost be worth the aggravation just for the look on his teammates’ faces when he had announced that he would take the job.  He seriously doubted that either had remembered to breathe for several seconds.  He felt a smile tease at the corners of his mouth at the memory.  However, the feeling did not last for long, as he thought of Omi’s comment as he had been leaving the room. Aya felt his mood darken quickly.

 “Kudoh”, the assassin sighed.  Hands clenched, Aya forced himself to let out his breath as he thought about the errant Weiss member.  Mere thought of the lanky playboy never failed to provoke some sort of reaction in the redhead, most often anger, but sometimes confusing emotions that Aya never really wanted to linger on, let alone acknowledge.  Anger was much safer to focus on,  at least for the reserved man’s emotional well being, and given the blond’s actions lately, readily available.  Yohji Kudoh had never been the most reliable person in the world, outside of missions, but lately him being unreliable was the only thing you could depend on him for.  When the blond actually managed to show up to work in the flower shop, more often than not extremely late and hungover, he usually found some sort of excuse to leave early.  He would then disappear, often not returning home til the next morning.  “It’s almost as if he was avoiding something, or someone,” the redhead thought, feeling a stab of pain in his chest.  Scolding himself mentally, Aya walked over to his closet.  He thought himself as foolish to think things like this, as if Yohji cared about Aya in any other way than as a co-worker the older man was forced to put up with.  It must be just what Ken had said earlier, Yohji being more Yohji-ish than usual.  The man was probably just set on having a good time, and couldn’t be bothered by what his teammates thought about it.  There was no reason for the swordsman to take the matter personal, let alone to feel hurt by the situation.

 Trying to rid himself of his dark mood, or at least as much as he ever could, Aya began rummaging through his closet, looking for articles thrust off into a corner.  Missions like the one he had participated on during Crasher’s, and a few he had taken while freelancing before joining Weiss, had left him with some interesting pieces of wardrobe that would benefit him on this mission.  Several pairs of leather pants, a couple pairs of jeans, and a set of velvet pants all had one thing in common.  They were all skin tight and rather low in the waist, ending several inches below his navel.  Next he pulled out a number of tops, including a few vests. Laying the clothes on his bed, he tried to decide on what he would wear for his “interview” the next day.  Frowning in concentration, he settled on a pair of jeans that had the dubious distinction of being so worn that the fabric was all but non-existent in a couple of places.  The fact was that these near holes were ‘strategically ‘ placed to draw attention to certain parts of Aya’s anatomy.  He decided to tone down the outfit somewhat by choosing a black cotton shirt, which besides being cropped and extremely clingy, was rather tame compared to the pants. Still, throw in a pair of boots, and replace the bar in his pierced navel with a silver hoop and chain, and Aya was willing to bet that he would pass muster.  He tried not to dwell on the fact that right now he could give Kudoh a run in the ‘dressed as a slut’ department.  Kritiker better damn well appreciate the lengths he went for the organization


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