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Not Now, Not Ever	By : Blythe Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 2476 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
Disclaimer: I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. Despite my delusions of grandeur, Weiss is
not mine. The boys are not mine. *sniff*

Pairing: Aya/Yohji (who else?)

Rating: NC-17 for lemon and language

A/N: Well, it’s finally over! This is the last chapter and I have to admit
to being somewhat relieved. This is for
KD, Phoenix,
and Moimoi-chan in particular because they were the first to encourage me and
may be the last ones to speak to me once this is posted. This is for all of the members of Assassins
Anonymous for the support & inspiration.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and the members of
the YxA ML who’ve offered feedback.

Finally, thank you Marasmine for your invaluable
beta-ing. You’ve made this a better
story!

A Word in Parting: This is not a happy ending. Feedback is welcome, even if it’s
hate-mail. Let the bonfire begin.

Chapter 9

Aya opened his eyes to profound darkness. Nights at Villa Weiss were like this, no city
lights to cast a sickly, artificial glow on the world. When the moon was new or obscured, nights in
the mountains carried an air of almost tangible mystery. The world was so distant and possibility so
near. Anything could happen.

Aya allowed a small smile to grace his lips as he reflected
on what had happened. He’d never fallen asleep so warm and sated,
almost content. Almost.

Almost, because he wasn’t naïve enough to think that one
spectacular fuck would suddenly make everything all better. It was progress, for sure, but it was not a
resolution. They weren’t going to wake
up in the warm glow of love and live happily ever after.

He had, however, expected to wake up together. His smile slipped as he took in the vacancy
of the spot next to him. He was getting
really fed up with the way that Yohji kept distancing himself, both physically
and emotionally.

‘Why can’t he just
talk to me?’ He asked himself.

‘Right. ‘Cause you’re
so approachable, aren’t you, frosty?’
Damn but he hated that voice.
Sometimes, it sounded remarkably like Yohji, sometimes like Aya-chan,
but always obnoxious. ‘And usually right. Don’t forget that!’

He sat up and sighed, scrubbing the sleep from his face with
both hands and running them through his hair.
After the episode this evening, it was clear to Aya that this was about
more than just Asuka, but he had no idea what other skeletons were lurking in
Yohji’s closet. He swung his legs off
the side of the bed. He stretched and
pulled on a pair of boxers, unsure to whom they belonged. He allowed his eyes one more moment to adjust
to the darkness before setting off to find the former playboy.

He didn’t have to look far.
The glowing tip of a cigarette and the wisps of burning tobacco alerted
him to Yohji’s presence on the balcony before he actually made out the shape of
the man. Coming closer, he took a moment
to admire his lover. Hair still mussed
from sleep and other…activities, shirt still relegated to the bedroom floor,
jeans hastily pulled on but not closed; he looked like he’d stepped right out
of one of Aya’s dreams.

“Hey,” Yohji greeted, snapping him out of his musings.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you. Just wanted a smoke.”

“Hmm. How many?” Aya
asked with a knowing glint in his eye.

“How many what?”

“How many smokes did you want? The bed is cold,” Aya moved
closer as he spoke, “and your skin,” he said as he laid a hand on Yohji’s arm,
a tiny thrill jolting through him at the contact, “is like ice. So, how many
smokes did you need? You’ve obviously been here awhile.”

Yohji couldn’t stop himself from smiling at that. He’d said it before and he’d say it again,
the man was just too damned observant!
He couldn’t get away with anything.

‘I could get used to
that,’ he thought. ‘It wouldn’t be so bad to behave myself, if
I knew he’d be there.’

His smiled turned a little sad. His past had finally managed to catch up with
him these past months. All of the things
he’d buried had resurfaced as the depression had unearthed every past hurt and
painful memory. He couldn’t share
it. He didn’t know how to. Even if he did, he wasn’t sure he’d want
to. There were so many things that he
wasn’t proud of. Just because Aya
obviously didn’t hate him now, didn’t mean it he couldn’t hate him later.

Aya interrupted his wandering mind. “It’s cold.”

“I can’t really tell.”

“That’s because you’re starting to turn blue. Let’s go in.”

Yohji cast another long look at the blank sky before
allowing Aya to pull him inside and onto the bed.

“Yotan,” Aya figured he’d have to start this
conversation. It wasn’t easy, talking
never was for him, but he reminded himself of what he stood to lose…or
gain. “I’ll leave you alone if it’s what
you really want. You don’t have to hide on the balcony and freeze to death to
get away from me. But,” he took a deep breath, “I’d like to stay.”

‘Forever,’ he
finished silently. ‘I’d like to stay forever,’ but having only just admitted it to
himself, he was not ready to say it to Yohji.

“Oh, Ayan…” He didn’t
know what to say. He knew what that
admission had cost the other man and felt immensely flattered that Aya was
willing to try so hard for him. In the
absence of words, he let his actions speak for him and pulled Aya into a gentle
kiss.

Aya’s hands came to rest on his shoulders as he was pulled
in closer. Yohji kissed him long and
deep and slow, reclining them both onto the pillows, expressing with lips and
tongue what he could never properly express with lips and tongue. He thought of it as nonverbal, oral
communication.

Aya allowed him to control the kiss, seeming to understand
Yohji’s need to do this. When they broke
apart both men’s eyes were shining with an emotion neither was prepared to
name.

Yohji blinked, breaking the moment. He inched down the bed, curled himself around
Aya, and pillowed his head on the redhead’s shoulder. Aya absently ran his fingers through the
tresses spread over his arm, petting and soothing. He felt the tension ease from Yohji’s body as
Aya’s body warmed him and his hands calmed him.
It was the end of their first week at the cabin. The morning would see the beginning of week
two and start of a new relationship. He
placed a light kiss on the top of Yohji’s head when the man’s breathing had
become slow and steady, only then did he allow himself to go back to sleep.

************************************************************************

Tomorrow would be their last day at Villa Weiss. Most of the past week had gone by in haze of
passion and sated lust. Aya and Yohji
had spent significantly more time learning the pleasures of each other’s bodies
than discussing what had developed between them. As much as Aya dreaded conversations where
one had to attempt to express one’s feelings, Ran was niggling presence in the
back of his mind telling him that it must be done.

They were lying in Yohji’s bed in the now standard
position. Yohji’s head tucked under
Aya’s chin, arms around Aya’s middle.
Aya held Yohji around his shoulders, keeping him close. They always fell asleep this way, but more
often than not, Aya woke up alone in the night.

Some nights, Yohji would be curled up in the chair, watching
him sleep. Aya found it odd that Yohji
could get away with it for more than a few minutes. Usually, Aya knew, even in his sleep, when he
was being watched. It bothered him a
little that Yohji could so often fly below his radar.

Other nights, Yohji would be out on the balcony, smoking,
singing softly. Aya would silently make
his way to the glass doors, trying to make out the words to the songs that
seemed to touch his lover so deeply.
Usually, though, he’d just stand there, lulled into a trance-like state
by the soothing tones of Yohji’s voice and the sight of him bathed in
moonlight. The song would end and he’d
pull Yohji back to bed. Heat his body
with his own. Burn away the fog of
melancholy with desire, slow and tender.
Always in the deep stillness of night it was gentler between them, as
though they were trying not to disturb the world’s peace.

There had only been one bad night. Only one night that things had been
different.

That night, Yohji had still been in the bed, but had moved
as far from Aya as he could without toppling off the bedside. He’d been caught in a waking dream, staring
at Aya with no recognition. Aya had
begun to crawl across the large bed when something in his posture set Yohji
off. He’d thrust one arm out, seemingly
to keep Aya away. The other, he’d
brought up to cover his head, having turned his face into the pillow. It was an instinctive, defensive gesture, the
kind used to ward off a blow. It was not
the behavior of a professional assassin and trained fighter. He’d cried out, too. “No, Keiji! Please,” was all that Aya could
discern before Yohji’s voice was muffled by the pillow.

Aya supposed his first thought should have been for his
lover and his distress. But, honestly,
his first thought was, ‘who the hell is
Keiji and why does Yohji think he’s in bed with him?’

Aya shook off the thought and focused on Yohji. He could worry about Keiji later. He was reminded of their second night at the
cabin. The night Yohji had dug canals
into his own neck. Like that night, Aya
began to talk, offering comfort in empty words.
Shushing, soothing. Calling Yohji
back to him. He took the hand that Yohji
held out in front of him and threaded their fingers together. He laid down with his head right next to
Yohji’s and continued to speak quietly.
He curled their joined arms between them, used his free hand to stroke
Yohji’s hair. It was a slightly awkward
position, left arm extended above his head, then bent toward Yohji who almost
faced him.

When Yohji lifted his face, a few moments later, he looked
lost. He was on the edge of the
bed. Aya was holding his hand. Aya was staring at him. He instinctively reached to his neck, but it
felt fine.

“Did I do something stupid again?”

Aya sighed, hating to remind the man of his nightmares. He hated the way that Yohji’s eyes would
shutter against him, hiding his emotions.
He never wanted Aya to know when he was scared or hurting. Always, he was afraid that his stoic,
unflappable leader would think less of him, think him weak. When Yohji was awake in the night, his eyes
were always closed off and it wasn’t until Aya was buried deep within his body
that at any light would be reborn in them.

“Who is Keiji?”

Yohji sucked in a sharp breath and looked warily at his
lover. He started to pull back, only to
realize that another half a centimeter would put him on the floor. He didn’t…couldn’t talk about this. He needed to get away.

‘Damn, Kudoh! How
could you have let that slip?’

Aya threw a leg over Yohji’s hips and reeled him back
in. He scooted toward the center of the
bed, dragging the blonde with him.

The message was clear: No Escape.

“Aya, I…,” he trailed off.
There was no way he could do this.

The more evasive Yohji was, the more pissed off Aya
became.

“Answer me one question tonight, Yohji. Then, I’ll leave it
‘til morning.”

Yohji nodded his assent.

“Would you rather be with him?” He hated himself for asking, but couldn’t
help it. He sounded like some insecure
schoolgirl, but his lover, calling another man’s name, in their bed! Who wouldn’t be upset? And he needed to know. If Yohji had another lover, Aya needed to
know. If he was in love with someone
else, it was imperative that he find out now.

‘Even though he looked
terrified and sounded desperate. Even though he hasn’t been out in months and
has been the embodiment of loneliness,’ another voice whispered, but Aya
couldn’t hear that voice just then.

“No!” Yohji answered
firmly and without hesitation. He was
about to elaborate when Aya slanted his mouth over his and began kissing him
fervently.

Yohji was quickly rolled onto his back, Aya’s body pinning
him down. He closed his eyes and
suppressed the panic, choked the fear.
He reminded himself of his surroundings.
Reminded himself that the man looming over him was Aya and Aya was
different.

When he opened his eyes, Aya was watching him. He sat back on his heels, away from Yohji’s
body. Assuming this less domineering
position, he regarded Yohji expectantly and Yohji was at a loss as to what the
other man was waiting for. Yohji
searched Aya’s face for an answer. He
found none.

Aya frowned at the perplexed expression on the blonde’s
face. It shouldn’t have been that
difficult to figure out. He was trying,
in his own way, to be sensitive. He
wanted Yohji to touch him, to move first and let Aya know that this was
alright. But he wasn’t moving, wasn’t
reaching out. Instead, Aya could
practically feel him pulling away, a physical pain for a psychological act.

This really was getting to be too much for him. Ill-equipped as he was to deal with his own
emotions, how could be expected to handle Yohji’s as well? Particularly when the man was such a
contradiction. One minute, he’s practically
begging for Aya’s touch, the next, he flinches from it! Aya’s patience was, once again, wearing
dangerously thin.

Well, he hadn’t come this far just to lose now.

Aya growled and Yohji…

Relaxed?

That couldn’t be right, but Aya felt the tension drain from
the blonde’s body. He heard the small
sigh that accompanied muscles releasing their rigidity. He watched as Yohji tilted his chin up,
exposing his neck. He saw the confusion
flee the beautiful face to be replaced with something more familiar. Heat, lust, desire; all combining to darken
leaf green eyes.

Aya’s body responded instantly to the look Yohji was giving
him. He threw a leg over golden hips and
planted a hand on either side of Yohji’s head.
Dipping his head he licked a trail from navel to sternum. He liked to watch Yohji’s abs flutter in
response to the stimulus. He especially
liked to see what other reactions he could pull from his highly sensitive, extremely
vocal, and breathtakingly responsive lover.
On more than one occasion, it had been Yohji’s trembling need and
plaintive mewls that had frayed his control.

He didn’t really mind.

He turned his head slightly left and scribed concentric
circles around the nipple with his tongue.
Smiling slightly with the faint hum of appreciation he heard, he
continued his ministrations on the other side.
When the nub had hardened into a satisfactory little peak, he closed his
teeth around it. Yohji’s hands moved to
his shoulders and head, pulling him closer.
He switched sides again, to a disappointed whimper, until he clamped his
mouth down and sucked hard. He was
rewarded with long legs encircling his waist and his name husked out on a
throaty moan.

He abandoned the now over-sensitized flesh to continue
upwards. He trailed kisses from Yohji’s
left ear, all along his jaw until he reached his mouth. Once there, he wasted no time in instigating
a heated kiss, so full of promise that Yohji moaned again. Aya broke the kiss while grinding his hips
down to watch his lover throw his head back and gasp. Sweat had already broken out in tiny beads on
both men, making the press of bodies slick and smooth.

He moved to Yohji’s neck, leaving more kisses in his
wake. Yohji was already writhing beneath
him, bucking his hips and making wordless pleas for more contact. Aya was just about to settle into making
another mark on the already bruised column when he was interrupted.

Yohji enjoyed being marked.
He liked being claimed. But, he loved being fucked by Aya. It was, without a doubt, the best sex of his
life. And he wanted it. He needed it.

Now.

Over the years, Yohji had learned to move his body almost as
fluidly as his wire. For an assassin of
his stature, moving with grace and stealth was required. Yohji just happened to make it look good,
too.

He rolled, catching Aya complete unawares. He didn’t stop until he had reversed their
positions. Aya’s face showed a moment of
shock, annoyance following hard on its heels.
This wasn’t a position he was accustomed to being in. He wasn’t sure what Yohji was thinking or
planning. He wasn’t sure he liked
it.

Yohji understood the question in Aya’s eyes this time and
answered it only with a kiss. A deep,
searing kiss in which he sucked on Aya’s tongue, bit at his lips, and drank in
the little noises the man probably didn’t even know he was making. Yohji smirked a little at that thought.

When he pulled back, Aya looked dazed, but still a little
skeptical. Yohji went straight back to
drowning his doubt in desire. He
repeated everything that Aya had done to him, backwards. He started with his jaw and neck. Moved down to lavish attention on his
chest. Licked his own wet trail from
sternum to navel. Paused to explore the
indentation, swirling his tongue around it and within it, enjoying the
increased pace of Aya’s breathing as he lingered there. But, he was too close to his goal to stop
there.

Aya wasn’t sure that didn’t like this position, either.

Yohji could feel the heat of Aya’s arousal on his cheek as
he placed a few more kisses on his stomach and hips. Then, he was faced with his prize. Aya’s breathing was ragged, his hands
clenched in the sheets. That would not
do. Every muscle was taut, nerve-endings
singing as though touched by a live wire.
Yohji, his living wire.

He hesitated, observing Aya, just long enough for the man to
begin to relax. Aya propped himself on
his elbows, looking down at the top of a blonde head. As he watched, a face lifted to greet him,
honey locks being tucked back so as not to hinder the view. Wire calloused hands moved to moon pale
hips. Emerald eyes, sparkling with
mischief met lust lidded violet. A smirk
broke lush lips. Moist, pink tongue
darted out, covered Aya’s erection in one broad stroke from root to tip.

Aya’s arms gave out and he fell back onto the pillows with a
grunt.

Yohji only smiled with his eyes as he opened his mouth wide
and swallowed Aya whole. Aya couldn’t
stop himself from crying out and trying to push into the heat engulfing
him. Yohji had been prepared and was
pinning his hips, taking his time sliding his lips slowly up and down the
length of flesh.

After a few more torturous minutes of Aya being able to do
nothing by remember how to breathe and bury his hands in Yohji’s hair, he
became very frustrated. Yohji sensed his
lover nearing the edge, needing release.
However, the blonde wasn’t ready to be finished yet. Gripping his lover’s cock at the root, he
spent a few more seconds covering every inch of it with licks and kisses,
finally sucking hard at the head, tasting the fluid steadily leaking from the
tip.

He released the grip of his lips and his fingers at the same
time. Aya’s growl warned him that the
swordsman was none too happy with being abandoned so close to orgasm. Yohji stretched out above him, reaching under
the pillows for the lube while distracting Aya with a few tongue-tangling
kisses.

Yohji continued to hold Aya’s attention while his hands were
busy. Between kisses he told Aya how
much he enjoyed having him in his mouth.
How much he liked the sounds he made.
How much it aroused him to hear Aya say his name. Yohji enjoyed exploring this little kink of
Aya’s. The redhead had let it slip after
their first night together that he’d never known how completely erotic the
right kind of talking could be. And it
was working perfectly tonight, keeping Aya from even wondering what Yohji’s
hands were up to.

Then, Yohji was sitting back again, moving away from Aya’s
lips and ear. Not kissing, not
talking. Aya was about to ask a
question, but all that came out of his open mouth was a hiss as a lube covered
hand wrapped around him, moving up and down enough to slick him completely.

Before he could begin to reason out the situation, he was
transfixed by the sight of Yohji positioning himself over him. He couldn’t dwell on this small detail either
as his brain completely short-circuited when Yohji snapped his hips down,
impaling himself in one smooth thrust.
Aya cried out, both at the sensation and the rapturous look on his
lover’s face.

Yohji threw his head back, resting and enjoying the feel of
Aya within him. His hands rested on his
own thighs, the muscles shifting under the skin as he rolled his hips in tiny
circles. Aya was impressed with the
blonde’s strength and control. He could
see the strain on ligaments and tendons as Yohji’s full weight was held up by
those powerful legs.

‘Long, well-shaped,
strong legs…’ It truly was an inspiring sight.

Of course, Aya preferred said legs wrapped around his waist
or draped over his shoulders and he was in no mood for teasing tonight.

Reaching out, he captured Yohji’s arms, using them to pull
his mate down for a kiss. He crushed the
blonde to his chest, appreciating the press of skin against skin. Moving from lips to neck, Aya bit down,
earning another mewl. Still holding
tight, he rolled them again, gaining the leverage he needed to properly fuck
his lover.

He smiled against Yohji’s neck as the blonde bucked beneath
him, moving his hips in response to the merciless pace Aya was setting. He kissed all over the golden neck and chest,
pausing occasionally to leave another love bite.

Yohji dragged blunt nails down the redhead’s back, causing
Aya to growl and pound into him harder, control slipping. When Aya changed position to strike the
panting blonde’s prostate, Yohji couldn’t stop the flow of pleas for more and
harder and faster that streamed from him.
He was so close!

He could feel everything tightening within him, ready to
snap. He reached between their bodies,
needing the extra friction. The sight of
Yohji beginning to stroke himself was Aya’s undoing.

“Mine!” He growled,
wrapping his hand around Yohji’s and bringing him closer to the brink.

“Mine,” he breathed again and came with a final, forceful
thrust.

That was enough for Yohji.
The spasm of Aya’s cock inside him, the wet warmth that filled him led
him to his own orgasm, covering both their bellies and his own hand.

They fell asleep again after a cursory clean-up. Aya kept his word and didn’t ask any more
questions, somewhat mollified by re-claiming his lover.

Yohji’s nightmares remained dormant for the rest of the
night and he stayed in the bed until morning.

Everything looked different in light of day and both men
were loathe to bring up the subject of Keiji or Yohji’s past. So, they didn’t. Yohji, because he didn’t want to talk about
it and Aya, because he didn’t know how.

So, they put the bad night behind them.

************************************************************************

“Are you all packed?”

Yohji nodded his response.
He was getting quiet again.

“Don’t you want to go back?”
Aya asked, slipping himself into the chair behind the blonde and pulling
him back, draping his arms over Yohji’s chest.

Yohji shook his head, but elucidated at Aya’s long-suffering
sigh.

“It’s just been so nice here. Just the two of us. No
missions. No Koneko.”

Aya smoothed his hands through Yohji’s hair, massaging his
head and neck, desperate to keep him from freezing over again.

“I know. It has been nice, but we’re needed elsewhere. And
Omi and Ken miss you.”

He placed a few light kisses on Yohji’s shoulder and neck,
smirking over the marks he’d left over the past several nights. Smirking wider with the thought of leaving a
few more tonight.

“Yohji,” Aya spoke quietly into his ear, “I won’t lie and
tell you nothing will change. But I promise you, this doesn’t end when we leave
here.”

Yohji turned his head to kiss his lover. He gave a small smile.

“Thank you, Ayan.”

He removed himself from the redhead’s lap and went upstairs
to make sure everything was ready. He
moved around the room, checking drawers, the closet, under the bed, ensuring he
hadn’t forgotten anything. He started
singing to himself.

Done so many things
wrong,

I don’t know if I can
do right.

At this point in my
life,

I’ve done so many
things wrong,

I don’t know if I can
do right.

If you put your trust
in me,

I hope I won’t let you
down,

If you give me a
chance,

I’ll try.

Aya came in then and turned the bed down. Yohji slipped out to the balcony for one last
smoke before bed, still singing.

You see it’s been a
hard road,

The road I’m traveling
on.

If I take your hand,

I might lead down the
path to ruin.

I’ve had a hard life.

I’m just saying so
you’ll understand,

That right now, right
now, I’m doing the best I can.

At this point in my
life.

Yohji stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the
railing. He went inside and brushed his
teeth. He climbed into bed and let his
body take over. He let himself feel
Aya’s searing heat, the heady rush of passion, the mind-numbing bliss of
release. He folded himself into Aya’s
arms and lightly dozed.

He woke in the calm of the night and extracted himself from
his teammate’s arms and legs. The song
was still running through his head. He
sat at the desk and began writing out the words by moonlight.

At this point in my
life,

Although I’ve mostly
walked in the shadows,

I’m still searching
for the light.

Won’t you put your
faith in me?

We both know that’s
what matters.

If you give me a
chance,

I’ll try.

You see I’ve been
climbing stairs,

But mostly stumbling
down.

I’ve been reaching
high,

But always losing
ground.

You see, I’ve
conquered hills,

But I still have
mountains to climb.

And right now, right
now,

I’m doing the best I
can.

Yohji finished writing out the lyrics. He folded the sheets of paper in half. Tucked them away with several others and set
them aside. He walked back to the bed
and took a moment to memorize the scene.
Then, he bent down and kissed his love, gracefully evading the unconsciously
reaching arms.

Aya woke up alone in the sickly colorless hour before
dawn. It was late by their normal
standards. It was usually the middle of
the night when he woke to drag Yohji back to bed. Maybe this was progress. Maybe he’d slept a little longer this time.

Looking around, he didn’t see Yohji slumped in the
chair. So, he gingerly placed his bare
feet on the cold wood floor and made his way to the balcony. The door was closed. Yohji must have closed it to keep the cold
air out. He stuck his head outside.

The balcony was deserted.

Aya frowned.

‘Surely the man would
not be ready for breakfast yet,’ he thought as he yawned and stretched.

He moved toward the bedroom door and stopped with his hand
on the knob. Something on the desk
caught his eye. An envelope.

An envelope with, he saw as he looked closer, his name on
it.

He flipped the switch for the overhead light and stepped
back to take in the room as a whole. He
stood still for a moment, listening.

He heard nothing.

Resuming his scan, he noticed several things that were
off.

Most notably, Yohji’s slippers were under the chair.

Aya grabbed the envelope and flew down the stairs.

“Yohji?” He called out.

Silence.

“Yohji!” A little
more concerned.

No answer.

“YOHJI!” Full on
panic.

He’d checked every room.
And the porch. And the
perimeter. He walked back through the
front door.

“Yotan?” Defeated.

His overnight bag was not in their room. His shoes were not by the door.

With trembling fingers Aya opened the envelope he’d
found. The first page was song
lyrics. Aya recognized them. He’d caught bits and pieces of the song as
Yohji had sung to himself when he thought no one could hear. When he got to the bridge, he had to sit
down.

Before we take a step,

Before we walk down
that path,

Before I make any
promises,

Before you have
regrets,

Before we talk
commitment,

Let me tell you of my
past.

All I’ve seen and all
I’ve done,

Things I’d like to
forget.

At this point in my
life.

The next pages were filled, front and back, with the story
of Yohji’s life before Weiss. Well,
maybe not the entire story, more like the Cliff’s Notes version.

It was…enlightening, to say the least.

Aya was grateful that no one else was around as he cried
bitterly for some of things his love had endured. Then, he wished for the man himself, so he
could tell Yohji how strong he was for surviving it. For not losing his mind. For not giving in. For still having the capacity for caring and
compassion. For still being able to
love.

For being able to be loved.

He wished he was hearing the words from Yohji’s mouth, but
at least this way, he was hearing Yohji’s voice. It wasn’t like reading a Kritiker file, which
no doubt contained all of this information and presented it in an organized,
clinical fashion. Aya had actually
considered asking Omi to hack the file for him when they got back to the
Koneko, just to understand, but this was better.

‘Or, it would be, if
Yohji was actually here.’

He turned to the last page of the letter and found the last
verse of the song.

At this point in my
life,

I’d like to live as if
only love mattered,

As if redemption was
in sight.

As if the search to
live honestly,

Is all that anyone
needs,

No matter if you find
it.

You see when I’ve
touched the sky,

The earth’s gravity
has pulled me down.

But now I’ve
reconciled in this world that

Birds and angels get
the wings to fly.

If you can believe in
this heart of mine,

If you can give it a
try,

Then I’ll reach inside
and find and give you all the sweetness that I have.

At this point in my
life.

At this point in my
life.

The bottom of the page read:

Aya,

Now you know the truth. I won’t fault you for never wanting to see me
again. I won’t judge you or think less
of you for hating me. I hope that
someday, you can forgive me for being such a coward. I love you.

Yohji

Aya sat for a few moments, letting the rest of his tears
fall. Then he headed back upstairs to
the unforgiving emptiness of their room.
Aya had never fully moved in and Yohji had already moved out.

He finished packing without thought, just going through the
motions. He closed up the cabin on
auto-pilot.

Settling behind the wheel of the Porsche, all he could think
was ‘I failed.’ Fujimiya Aya,
Abyssinian, who always completed his mission, failed.

Not only was Yohji not coming home better, he wasn’t coming
home at all.

With that thought, he felt the flame of Ran’s love, Aya’s
hope, and Abyssinian’s grim determination sputter and grow dim.

Yohji was gone.

But not dead.

As long as one chance remained, he would not give up.

Not now. Not ever.

************************************************************************

I do not own Cliff’s Notes.

This song is “At This Point in My Life” copyright 1992 Tracy
Chapman. That means, I don’t own it
either.
- 8
- 9
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Not Now, Not Ever