Title: Stationary

Author: Becka

Pairing: KenxOmi.

Warnings: Dark, angst, crazy Omi-kins, Ken-POV, OOC(?), AU(?).

Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz does not belong to Becka; characters are used without permission for a non-profit purpose. No infringement is intended.


I don't like change. I never have, I never will.

I don't want to adapt or advance. I don't want to evolve.

Ever since I was a kid, I've been this way. I dropped out of high school because I never wanted to grow up. I never wanted to take that first step, make that first decision as to how I would spend the rest of my life. I dropped out and gave my life to the J-League. It didn't require any effort or thought. It didn't demand any change.

I can't deal with it, you see. I can't think about "the rest of my life" in a long-term way. I just... it freezes me up inside. Why should I have to decide now, now, now what to do. Why can't I put it off until I'm certain?

I guess that's the crux of the matter, though. I can't make a decision unless I know it's the right one, and I'm never sure what's right, so how can I commit? How can I decide? How can I possibly change?

That's the way it went for the first eighteen years of my life. I wasn't... happy. But I got by. Honest. Then someone had to go and shake up my world and turn it upside down and force me to change because they could.

My best friend tried to kill me. Well, I thought he tried to save me, but I've learned since then. And because of him I was dumped into a group of assassins and told to kill, kill, kill. Faster pussycat, kill, kill!

It seemed like so much in the beginning. It seemed like a whole new life. And then I learned that I didn't have to think or change or decide what's right. They just handed me an envelope with some mission specs, I did what they trained me to do, and point, set, match, I don't have to change.

It wasn't easy work. The decisions they made probably weren't the right ones. But I didn't have to think about it, and that's all I cared about.

Until I met _him_.

He was a kid. A cute kid, but still just a boy. I coached kids older than him at my soccer meets. But there was something about him, an air that hinted to danger and mystery and dark intrigue. And I kissed him because I could. His mouth was there. So was mine. No thought involved.

It wasn't a change so much as an awakening. He did things to me with his mouth that made me scream. He let me do things to him that I don't think I could ever have the stomach to do again. But he just smiled at me with that fucking mouth and I went with the flow. I don't know that I regret what happened. Mainly because I didn't make the choice.

He was my dirty little secret, you see. He was there and I could use him and I didn't have to give a damn or a thought or whatever it was that a normal, healthy relationship might demand. He'd lay in my arms some nights, the scent of his shampoo, green apples, so intoxicating as I ran my fingers through his soft hair. And I didn't have to think. I didn't have to choose. I didn't have to change.

And sometimes I'd catch him just _looking_ at me, and I think his eyes scared me most. That look was like he knew me from before, like he could see into my soul, like he was biding his time for... something. It's that whole cliche: will he kiss me or kill me?

I guess I didn't really care either way. It wasn't... it wasn't anything like suicide, suicidal tendencies, or whatever. It wasn't as though I had a death wish. But if he killed me or if I died on a mission, I wouldn't have to change ever again.

It's sad, really. I have so much apathy for my own life, death no longer bothers me. I'm willing to die just so I don't have to make the wrong decision.

Evolution is over-rated, anyway.

He was so young. But I think that's what attracted me in the first place; no matter what happened, he never changed. His eyes were calm, his mouth locked in a perpetual smile, his heartbeat never racing or slowing down. No matter what happened, he was always the same. I don't know if I loved him for it, or hated him because he'd achieved something I'd never been able to do.

And bit by bit, Omi began to disappear. He became a ghost of who he was, if that's possible, only around the house whenever mission specs came in. It meant that whenever I saw him, I fucked him just because I was never sure when he'd show up next.

I didn't choose to. I just... did.

And one day after he'd been gone for so long that I couldn't remember his eyes, he showed up at the doorstep, walked in calm as could be, and let Yohji drag him away for a stern lecture, most likely.

That night I found that his shampoo had changed. Strawberry burned my nose and the next morning I went out and bought him a bottle of the Green Apple stuff he used before. I don't know that he used it, but I hoped. Because he wasn't allowed to change. He wasn't allowed to evolve. He wasn't allowed to grow up.

And maybe, if I can capture that I won't need him anymore.

Maybe if I learn how he does it, I'll be stationary too.

And maybe, if I'm stationary, the apathy that's haunted me my whole life will just... disappear.