Vindication

Chapter Third

Yohji stumbled into the dark apartment, curses and utterances of deadly threats escaping under his breath. He wasn’t drunk, nowhere near it, but Ken had decided to leave his soccer gear right inside the door, causing Yohji to trip and stub his toe against the heavy bag. Another string of curses sputtered out of his mouth, and he kicked the junk aside in order to clear a path toward the stairs. He was tired and sporting a migraine that made his head feel like it was ten times heavier than his neck was able to support, and every little sound and light stabbed behind his eyeballs, intensifying the pain. Alcohol and cigarettes seemed to have just made it worse, and Yohji was not happy about that conclusion. Even the regular clubs and women he visited frequently couldn’t satisfy the mysterious yearning that he had felt throughout the night.

Everything around him just seemed… bland in comparison. Or much like the taste of warmed beer coating the back of his throat. There was no interest, no desire to delve into the little pleasures he usually sought.

He couldn’t explain it, but it had happened after Aya had rejected him in the cemetery earlier that day, and Yohji had found himself rejecting all that he loved the most that didn’t involve the fiery red headed swordsman. Perhaps it was because he couldn’t have what he really wanted. Or needed. Such a silly thought, he silently realized. He was seeking something that was way out of his league in every aspect of the word. Their differences had rarely been agreeable and had ended discussions in heated arguments, deadly threats left hanging heavily in the air. What good was to come of that?

However, as much as he tried to remind himself that it was a futile effort, Yohji couldn’t get the redhead out of his mind. The last couple of days seemed to have intensified the feelings that had been buried deep inside, dormant from the world and his own realization, and Yohji was overwhelmed. He was afraid he would say or do something that would have led to regret in the end. The hole was getting deeper and deeper, he realized with disdain. And soon, Aya would bury him, thankful for the reprieve.

Yohji sighed, plowing a hand through his disheveled hair, combing the stray locks away from his face. All that he desired at that moment, though, was a nice amount of aspirin to dull the pain thundering in his head and uninterrupted sleep.

“You’re home early,” a deep voice resonated from the living room, startling Yohji into full awareness. Just as he whirled in that direction, the table lamp was switched on, and Aya appeared curled on the couch like a cat ready for a nap; a very beautiful cat, with enough ferocity to tear one to pieces if the chance ever arose.

“What are you doing sitting in the dark?”

Aya’s gaze drifted to the coffee table, as he took his reading glasses off, to where a stack of papers and photos lay haphazardly on the surface; it was almost as if he had stopped in the middle of his study to greet Yohji. It was apparent, though, that he hadn’t bothered to look at the papers for a while. Yohji recognized some of them as briefing information when a mission was assigned to the group. It was probably the folder containing the details for Aya’s solo mission that Birman had given him at the funeral.

“You’re still going to go through with it, aren’t you?”

The red head lifted his eyes to Yohji, and they narrowed defensively. Yohji stared at him, and noted that Aya wasn’t able to hold much fire in his glare. The violet eyes were drawn and tired, showing evidence that he hadn’t slept much in the past couple of days, dark circles around the edges. As much as Yohji wanted to show his concern, he knew better than to highlight a weakness in Aya. It would have only built up the defensive wall higher than before.

Yohji sighed again and moved into the living room further. “Can I sit?”

Aya inclined his head, granting permission, although he didn’t look too happy to give it. “The bars couldn’t satisfy your late night binges?”

The words were meant to stab and admonish – Aya had never agreed with his choice in entertainment - but Yohji didn’t even flinch. He knew the truth behind those words all too well, more than Aya ever would.

“You could say that,” he said with a nonchalant shrug, making himself comfortable on the spot next to Aya’s curled up legs, positioning his own on the coffee table. He relaxed further by slouching deeper on the cushions and placing his hands behind his head. All he needed was a cigarette, and the mood would have been set.

“I guess we both can’t sleep,” he said absentmindedly, inclining his head to stare at the shadows on the ceiling. He could still see Aya’s profile from the corner of his vision, and inwardly, he smiled.

Aya sniffed and turned away, leaning against the armrest with his chin in his hand. “I was working-“

“With the light off,” Yohji finished with a sly pull of his lips.

Both men turned in unison to stare at the other, Aya putting forth as much irritation in his glare as possible while Yohji’s eyes lit up with a sense of amusement. Aya was the first to look away, and his shoulders slumped in what appeared to be fatigue and defeat.

“I don’t want you to do anything stupid,” Aya said after a pregnant moment of silence.

Yohji was surprised by the sudden remark and raised an inquisitive brow as he turned to stare at the other man’s profile. “What?”

Closing his eyes, Aya sighed while keeping his gaze forward. “Don’t act ignorant, moron.”

“Wow,” Yohji said, blinking hard. “And to think I really had hope that you cared.”

“Don’t push it.”

“I would never do such a thing,” Yohji said, and he felt the grin gracing his lips grow wider. The migraine that had ruined the evening earlier had dissipated, and Yohji found that he was enjoying this battering session with Aya all too much.

Unfortunately, Aya wasn’t. He made a move to leave, but Yohji was quick to grab his arm in much the same manner he had done on the roof that morning. This time, however, Aya was quick in his own way to brush off Yohji’s touch.

“Wait,” Yohji implored as Aya stood from his curled position on the couch. He looked up at the redhead and sighed. “I’m sorry. Sit, okay? I promise I won’t say anything stupid.”

“You are known for breaking a lot of promises,” Aya declared warily.

Yohji held his hand to his chest. “Scout’s honor, or whatever that bullshit means.”

That received a slight twitch of the redhead’s mouth, indicating that he either found it amusing or aggravating - most likely the latter. But Aya decided to stay, and Yohji was surprised and grateful at the same time.

“Thanks.”

“Shut up,” Aya groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

Yohji inclined his head in a show of respect and relaxed against the cushions again. Another round of awkward silence filled the living room, and after only a few minutes, Yohji couldn’t handle the quiet any longer. His eyes drifted to the papers sporadically spaced across the coffee table, his mind running rampant with curiosity. He couldn’t help it; his inquisitive nature always got the better of him sooner or later, and it usually ended up causing him trouble in the end.

“So, who’s the job?”

Aya didn’t answer.

The blonde’s brow rose expectantly. Truly, he didn’t think that Aya would have answered, but it was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. At least the swordsman didn’t admonish him or tell him to shut up. He was surprised, though when Aya eventually did reply.

“It doesn’t matter. He will soon be dead.”

That wasn’t exactly the answer Yohji was hoping for, and he snorted. Same old Aya, he observed.

“Do you think-“

“Don’t,” Aya said quickly. “I told you it wasn’t your business before, and it isn’t now.”

Yohji narrowed his eyes carefully. “What makes you think I was going to ask about that? Maybe I wanted to ask something entirely off subject.”

“I know you well enough that you wouldn’t do that,” Aya said pointedly.

“Funny,” Yohji said thoughtfully, “that you know so much about me, but I know nothing about you.”

Aya stared at him with a narrowed and calculating gaze. Yohji realized that Aya didn’t reply after that statement, because it was an obvious fact that couldn’t be denied no matter how blue in the face Aya got from arguing.

A long pause ensued, but there was no tension between the two men. However, each one held his own and didn’t dare turn away from the other without some satisfaction. Yohji’s lips turned up in a knowing smile, and Aya was forced to look away quickly. The reaction made Yohji unsure of what to make of it; he was surprised nonetheless to see Aya nervously pull on the gold earring and then plow that hand through his already disheveled hair. It was an act that Yohji had never seen Aya do, much less imagine the red head doing in such an anxious situation. Unnatural was the first word that came to Yohji’s mind, and he blinked hard after it had finally set in. Now there was tension, but only on Aya’s part.

“It’s late,” Aya finally said after clearing his throat.

Yohji straightened, shaking the initial shock from his body. “Yeah.”

Aya was quick to make his retreat, gathering his mission papers up neatly before making his exit towards the stairs. Yohji followed, his mind mulling over what had just transpired between them. Perhaps the feelings were mutual, and Yohji was just too blind to see past his own wandering thoughts to realize it. The real question was: how was he going to find out the truth to his suspicions? Aya’s pride was too great for him to ever admit his thoughts or feelings toward another. What other options did Yohji have?

“Aya?”

As the swordsman turned to meet the expectancy in Yohji’s voice, the decision was made, and Yohji went for the more direct approach. He was too impatient to sit back idly and wait for Aya to make the move, if that were to ever happen. It was a risky choice, but it would have given Yohji a sense of closure on whether or not his newfound feelings were in vain, even if that meant adding in a death wish.

In a breathless moment, his lips were on Aya’s, pushing him back forcefully until he crashed into the stairway wall. The redhead’s body was rigid, but he made no move to stop Yohji from going further. The kiss was insistent and hungry. Yohji relished in the feel of those lips that were so forbidden and unattainable until now. Aya seemed reluctant at first, but then, his body gradually lost its tension, and he relaxed under Yohji’s ministrations; the stroke of a shoulder here, the tug of an ear tail there. He still did not return the same passion that Yohji felt, but there was something residing within the swordsman’s body. He just didn’t know how to release it like Yohji did.

With a little persuasion, however, Aya eventually mimicked Yohji, and their tongues flirted and stroked before Yohji dominated. It claimed and explored Aya’s mouth, while his fingers threaded through the silky red hair, grabbing a fistful at the base of his skull. Aya’s body shuddered underneath Yohji, and he felt the heat rush through his groin. He made it evident to Aya how aroused he really was, and the action received a surprised, muffled yelp from the redhead. Inwardly, Yohji grinned over his triumph, and he couldn’t help but feel relieved, above all else, that Aya did not refuse him.

Gasping suddenly, Aya pulled away and pressed his palms flat against Yohji’s chest to keep him from advancing again. His pale cheeks were flushed, and his unruly bangs obscured his eyes from Yohji’s view as though he was ashamed of what they had just done.

“I can’t,” he said after a moment’s pause to regain some composure of his body. “Aya-chan…the mission.”

Yohji gently grabbed Aya’s wrists and held them close, entwining their hands together. “After?”

Shaking his head firmly, Aya stumbled with his words. “N-no. I can’t.”

“Why?” Yohji was confused. It was obvious by Aya’s reaction to the kiss that he had enjoyed every minute of it. There was an evident bulge in the redhead’s jeans, but he quickly untangled himself from Yohji’s grasp, and turned away to guard his weakness from the lustful excursion.

“Don’t,” Aya warned, glaring at Yohji from over his shoulder. There was a hard set to his eyes and the corners of his mouth, and Yohji knew that the brick wall had built itself back up again. Just like that, within a blink of an eye. It was a little unnerving, and Yohji felt a spark of anger ignite.

“You can’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy that. That you don’t feel-“

“I can’t,” Aya said, emphasizing his words with a sudden tightness to his shoulders.

Yohji furrowed his brow in consternation. “What is it that you’re not telling me about this mission? You don’t expect to come back, do you?”

Aya ignored the question, dissuading from the truth that Yohji suspected. “Go to bed, Yohji,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion or care. He retreated into the safety of his room, closing the door roughly behind him.

There was an undeniable urge to scream at the top of his lungs, but Yohji kept himself in check with the little self-control he had left, though he couldn’t cease the trembling from his anger overcoming his body. The migraine had sprung itself back to life, and he closed his lids against the onslaught of pressure behind his eyeballs. He was so close, so fucking close this time. However, he had more knowledge than he had started out with and that Aya was capable of emotions that he dared not show in public. If one was able to dig deep enough without the repercussions biting back with ferocity, there was a beautiful treasure underneath it all, and Yohji was desperate to obtain that treasure, to expose its rare beauty in the light.

With a heavy sigh, Yohji retired to his own room that reeked of nicotine, kicking forgotten shirts and boxers that lay sporadically on the floor out of his way toward the unkempt bed. There was a stark difference between him and Aya and how they lived their lives. Perhaps that was the reason Yohji found himself so attracted to the redheaded swordsman, for the reason that Aya was everything he wasn’t. There was a true sense to the saying, ‘opposites attract’, but Aya made it so damn hard to accomplish that attraction on a mutual level. It was obvious the swordsman had felt something, but why was he turning away, Yohji wondered. He hoped that his suspicions of Aya not returning weren’t true, not only for his sake but for the rest of Weiss. They needed Aya; he was a part of the family they had formed over the years.

Yohji heaved another sigh and collapsed on the bed, spreading out to his full length, placing his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes, desperate to find some reprieve from the thoughts that plagued his mind, the sudden worry of losing Aya, but it was futile. It was always a question that made Yohji wonder - what would happen to the rest of Weiss if something were to happen to one of them? Of course, they had survived long enough without Aya in the beginning, but now that the swordsman was a major key player in the team, no matter if they were ‘retired’ or not, Yohji couldn’t fathom Weiss working without him. He couldn’t imagine the flower shop staying in business itself without a responsible person to take care of it, not that Omi or Ken weren’t responsible enough.

Without realizing it, Yohji had dozed off in the midst of his wandering thoughts. He woke from his light slumber by the soft hush of his door opening and a flood of light invading the dark room. Assassin instinct took over, and his body tensed, his hand going for the wire in his watch that he still refused to take off. Blinking hard, after his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, he stared at the silhouette standing in the threshold and furrowed his brow.

“Aya?”

To say he was surprised that the redhead was standing there was an understatement. He couldn’t understand for what reason Aya had come to him, but he wasn’t about to push him out.

“What’s up?”

Aya didn’t answer. He stood there in the doorway for another moment before he reluctantly entered the room fully, closing the door behind him. Yohji couldn’t help but notice the tightness of Aya’s body, the nervous tension quickly taking over. Sitting up on his elbows, Yohji tilted his head and watched as Aya approached the bed, his movements stiff, as though he was battling within his mind whether he wanted to be there or not. Then, he suddenly sat down on the edge of Yohji’s bed, forcing the older man to move over to give ample room.

“Aya-?”

“Promise me something, Yohji,” Aya said quietly, but firmly.

“It depends on the proposition,” he answered seriously.

Aya sighed and turned his face enough to show the faint outline of his profile in the dark. His eyes were obscured by the fall of his unruly bangs, and Yohji had a strange itch to push those strands away with his fingers. Shaking his head, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

“I want you to promise that you won’t follow me,” Aya finally said.

Yohji blinked hard, and sat up. “I don’t understand.”

Turning fully, Aya stared at Yohji, the violet gaze hard and glittering in the illumination of the moon and streetlights coming from the windows. “The mission. I don’t want you to follow me. This is something I have to do-”

“I can’t promise that, Aya.”

Aya narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t show any outright anger. It was more of a thoughtful gaze, mulling over Yohji’s sudden answer. The question of ‘why’ was heavy in the air, and Yohji answered the silent inquiry.

“You are still a part of Weiss no matter if you are assigned a solo mission. I can promise that I won’t follow unless the mission goes wrong. But if help is needed, you have to make your own promise that you will let go of your swordsman’s pride and call for us.”

Aya clenched his jaw before he turned away. “Fine, it’s a deal then,” he said grudgingly, as though his pride wanted to argue that point. Yohji wouldn’t have been surprised if that were the case.

Satisfied nonetheless, Yohji relaxed his body against the mattress again. He closed his eyes, content with the idea that Aya hadn’t moved. There was most likely another silent battle raging on in the redhead’s mind on whether or not he should stay.

Yohji decided to give a bit of encouragement instead and offered without opening his eyes to watch the redhead’s reaction; “Why don’t you stay? I promise I won’t bite.”

When the bed dipped further, Yohji’s eyes snapped open to see Aya laying beside him, back facing him. Yohji couldn’t help but smile softly, after the shock had settled in, and he settled more comfortably, content with watching the steady rise and fall of Aya’s shoulders and back muscles as he breathed. This moment, Yohji knew, he would never forget. He soon fell asleep with ease, his face turned toward Aya.

Usually, throughout the night, Yohji had found himself waking up numerous times from plaguing nightmares to headaches or urges for a cigarette. Fortunately, he only woke up twice: the first time with the feel of Aya’s firm body against his own, snuggled close to his chest, the redhead’s face buried in the crook of his shoulder and neck, warm breath tingling the tiny hairs along Yohji’s body. To wake up to such a sight was a little disconcerting at first for the reason that he hadn’t expected it, but Yohji smiled with the knowledge that Aya was the type that liked to cuddle in the middle of the night. Without disturbing Aya’s restful sleep, Yohji encircled his arms around the smaller man’s body and held him close while he slowly drifted back to sleep.

The second time he woke up it was close to dawn, and he was alone, the spot next to him showing no indication that Aya had been there at all. Yohji wondered if he had dreamt it. Either way, he was grateful for the thought. Then, realization slowly set in, and Yohji sat up straight in bed, knowing Aya intended to leave that morning for the mission. He scrambled out of bed, tripping over his own feet as he hurried out of the room in search of the swordsman.

Aya’s room was empty and in pristine condition. It looked as though no one had lived there; most of the clothes were missing from the closet along with the weapons and mission gear stored there, and the laptop was nowhere to be seen. Yohji knew that Aya had already left. He collapsed on the edge of the bed, but quickly got back up when something crinkled underneath him. A small white paper folded neatly lay there with Yohji’s name scribbled across the front. There was something small, but bulky inside the crease, and Yohji allowed the object to drop onto his palm before he opened the letter. To his dismay, it was the tiny main chip that belonged inside the team’s tracking devices. He had a sickening thought, but before his suspicions got the better of him, he read the letter.

Yohji-
I broke my promise.
-Aya

Trembling with anger, Yohji crumbled the paper along with the chip in his hand. By removing the chip from the transmitter, Aya had made it close to impossible to locate him unless they were to hack into Kritiker’s database to find the information. It was a risk that Omi wasn’t able to take. Yohji wanted to kill the redhead for making such a bold move, and he was going to make damn sure he was the one to do it.

“Damn you, Aya,” he seethed through clenched teeth.


TBC...