Endless Dark

A/N: The boys of Weiss don\'t belong to me. They\'ve slid through many pairs of hands, but in the end I think they\'re the property of Takehito Koyasu and Project Weiss. Either way, I\'m not making an profit on this piece of fiction. It was written for entertainment only.

A/N 2: Edited only because for some reason the coding messed up and the first chapter disappeared. Well, and now I\'ve noticed a very large number of other problems littering this fic as posted here. I don\'t have time to clean them up right now, so anyone interested in reading this story might do better to find it on my website: www.discount-muse.com My apologies for any inconvenience.


Chapter 1 – “Losing Ground”


The floor shook under his feet, an still he ran, the hilt of his katana clutched tight in his hand as his breath came in pained gasps. She had to be here somewhere; he couldn’t have lost her so soon after getting her back. Panic and desperation danced in electric waves through his body, each beat of his heart driving him further from rational thought.

“Aya!” The voice that barked his name pulled him around in a quick circle, his violet eyes wide and his body rigid.

“What the hell are you doing?” Yohji demanded, his own eyes wild and looking slightly odd to Aya since he’d lost his ever-present sunglasses at some point during the fight.

“I have to find her,” even though he wanted to scream, the words came out quiet and cold. He could feel the way Yohji flinched at his tone, but right now there was nothing he could do. There was nothing more important than her, not even him.

“This place is falling apart. You can’t stay here, it’s too dangerous,” Yohji was careful not to move, he barely seemed to breathe. He knew that if Aya thought he would try and stop his search for his sister it would be over. Aya would be gone before Yohji had any chance to stop him.

Another tremor shook what was left of the building, a rumbling roar rising to fill the air with an almost visceral sound. The floor heaved and a sharp crack sounded nearby, making Aya close his eyes in an involuntary flinch.

Yohji seized the opportunity this presented and his wires shot out, wrapping hard around Aya’s body. He saw the instant tension in his lover’s body, and then Aya’s eyes shot open. The burning betrayal in their depths seared him, and he knew that Aya would never forgive him this.

Still he didn’t stop. He held Aya there, watching as his features cooled until no spark of affection remained. Yohji could feel the tears that wet his cheeks, and his voice was rough when he radioed Omi for help. He had no choice. It was better for him to get Aya out alive than to do nothing at all.

Even though it was about to cost him the one thing that was precious to him, he was willing to give it up to have Aya alive and breathing. Aya’s life meant more to him than his own, and he couldn’t stand helplessly by and let the man sacrifice himself. It was greedy and selfish, but Yohji had never pretended to be anything else and wasn’t going to begin now.

Omi and Ken pelted around the corner at a dead run. Blood ran freely down one side of Omi’s face, and Ken hunched over a wound in his side. Still, they managed to do what needed to be done. Omi took Aya’s katana and ran ahead while Yohji quickly uncoiled the wires that pinned him and he and Ken caught Aya’s arms before he could escape them.

Following Omi, Ken and Yohji dragged Aya’s motionless body toward a way out. To Yohji, Aya felt as though he were all ready dead. He was stiff and cold, and his eyes were shut to block out the sight of the traitor that was taking him away from his sister. Yohji’s grip tightened on Aya’s arm, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise, trying to get some reaction. Nothing, for Aya it was as if he no longer existed at that moment.

When they hit the water Aya flailed free of Yohji and Ken in a sudden burst of motion that took them both by surprise; ripping away he swam quickly for the surface without looking back. Yohji followed at a slower pace, the burning of his lungs as they begged for air nothing compared to the pain that surrounded his heart.

They reached the beach, dragging their tired bodies out of the cold water with harsh, panting breaths. Yohji, Omi and Ken all flopped down on the shore, shivering with exhaustion and cold.

Aya stood at the water’s edge, red hair darkened to the shade of dried blood, plastered to his head and dripping steadily. His skin was pale, not even a spot of color marring his cheeks. He stared out over the water silently, eyes fixed on the point where the building had been and his fists clenched at his sides.

Slowly, Yohji pushed himself to his feet, catching his breath as a wave of pain washed over his battered body. Still, he forced himself upright, slow steps carrying him toward Aya. One of his hands stretched toward the other man, fluttering tentatively just above his shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” Aya spun, his eyes blazing as he slapped Yohji’s hand away. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

Now Aya was breathing as though he’d just run a race and his eyes glowed like amethyst with his rage. He reached for his katana, but Omi still had it, and his hand clenched helplessly on the empty air. He shook, his entire body quaking with his intensity.

Before Yohji knew what was happening Aya’s fist connected with his jaw hard enough for the pain to explode in his head in a brilliant red burst. He was on his hands and knees on the ground, blood dripping slowly from the split in his lip, staining the sand between his hands nearly as dark as the shadows that he felt closing over him.

He heard Aya’s broken gasp above him, and the quick steps that carried him away. The sudden howl of rage and pain that shattered the darkening sky made him flinch and he cowered down against the ground, tears mingling with his blood.

The howl faded into nothingness, and Yohji could hear Aya walk over to Omi. He knew, even without looking up, that the man simply held out his hand for his katana. He could feel Omi’s hesitation in the boy’s eyes on his back, but after a second he handed over the blade. The cool hiss it made as Aya slid it back into its sheath sent shivers up Yohji’s spine.

Then, Aya’s footsteps carried him away from them until they couldn’t be heard anymorfterfter that, the only sounds were the sobs that Yohji couldn’t keep behind his lips. Omi and Ken waited silently, huddled together on the ground.

Eventually Yohji dragged enough of his tattered composure together to stand again. Without a word, he started to climb the hill toward the road above. He could feel the reassuring presence of Omi and Ken behind him, but the one place where he wanted to feel someone was cold and numb.

He was dry, mostly, but he wouldn’t ehavehave noticed if he was still dripping water from the hem of his coat. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was now. He’d been walking for a couple of hours, aimlessly meandering through dark streets and darker thoughts.

She was gone. There was no way she could have lived through that. There was nothing left for him now. His parents had been gone for so long he almost couldn’t remember their faces now. Takatori was dead; at least, the one responsible for his parent’s deaths and Aya-chan’s coma. Now, Aya-chan was gone, and there was nothing he could do.

His hand lifted, curling around the sparkling bit of gold that dangled from his earlobe so tightly that his knuckles hurt. This was all he had left of her. This thing that was meant to be a gift to her now seemed like a curse to him. His fingers tightened further and with a jerk he tore the dangling bauble free.

He felt a small stab of pain as his ear tore a little, and then the back gave way and bounced off his shoulder to the pavement at his feet. He drew his hand back, preparing to throw it as far away as could manage.

As he did a memory of girlish laughter pounded into his thoughts, and he remembered the night he’d bought them for her. Slowly, his hand lowered, his eyes closing as he reached for the memory of her face when she’d seen them.

He’d felt so proud, so excited, when he bought them. She’d said that she loved them; she was going to be so happy. He could imagine her joy and it had made him smile. He knew she’d grin and hug him, laughing his name.

Ran.

He could hear it, as he stood silently on the side of the street. Over the sounds of the night, he could hear her voice calling his name. He was afraid to open his eyes; afraid he’d see her there in front of him and that he’d try to touch her, only to find that she wasn’t real.

Behind his eyelids he saw her smiling and laughing, but if he opened his eyes he knew he’d see sadness and disappointment. He’d failed her. Left her behind and let her be hurt again. This time, he’d never be able to save her.

He stood very still for a long time, waiting for the sensation of her presence to fade; waiting for it to be safe to open his eyes again. Eventually, a breeze whispered over his skin like a sigh and he shivered.

He opened his eyes slowly, noticing that the sky was turning gray with the first hints of dawn. Expressionless, he turned, finding his bearings in streets that had been unfamiliar in the darkness before, but now felt as familiar as his own face in the mirror. He bent slowly, picking up the back of the earring from where it glimmered just in front of his foot.

He slid it back through the hole in his ear, hissing a welcome to the pain as the small tear throbbed. He deserved more hurt than this, but there were things he had to do first.

He needed clothes and sleep, and right now there was only one place to get them. Heavy footsteps carried him back toward his apartment. He had obligations to tend to before he could leave, and after so many other failures, he would take care of these things before he went. Perhaps having one less shadow on his heart would make a difference when the time for judgment came. He knew he didn’t deserve mercy, he only hoped that he’d be allowed to see his family again when his time came.

He stopped outside the building, feeling his rage blossom once again. Yohji was inside, probably soundly asleep in his bed and dreg. Ag. Aya could easily make his way stealthily inside and watch him sleep. He could reach out and hurt Yohji without giving the other man time to wake.

He was shocked at how desperately that thought appealed to him. Once, he’d thought he loved Yohji, and that Yohji loved him. The moment Yohji’s wires had clamped down around him that had shattered into a million fragments. Aya could feel the edges of those pieces stabbing painfully into his heart. They drove deeper with each breath, and Aya hunched around the pain, letting out a small whimper.

That sound was enough to drive him back to his senses. Yohji had kept him from finding Aya. If he’d never gotten entangled with the older man he never would have opened himself to the opportunity to fail his sister. If he hadn’t been weak enough to seek comfort in Yohji’s arms, he might have stayed strong enough to save her.

As the sun spilled its golden glory into the sky, Aya slipped into his room, welcoming the cool darkness behind the closed shades. He stripped off his stiff, dirty clothes and threw on a pair of soft cotton pants before falling into bed and seeking temporary oblivion. His dreams were a tangle of Aya’s laugh and Yohji’s warm touch, blood spurting in darkness and tires shrieking on pavement lit by the fire that consumed the house he’d lived in with his family.