Japan. September 28. Then.
It was days before Yohji heard from Schuldig. Not that he was worried about him, nah, he just wanted to know if everything had gone well. He hadn't accompanied the redhead inside the hospital, but he could picture Schuldig holding his gut, bleeding all over the floor and just walking up to a nurse to tell her: "Hey, you, I'm bleeding. Stitch me up."
Yes. Yohji just wanted to know how things had gone. So when the phone rang and Schuldig spoke from the other side he was genuinely surprised.
"Having fun tonight, Mr. Kudo?"
Yohji tried glaring at the phone, but instead just left his mouth hanging open. He knew it would be pointless to ask Schuldig where he had gotten his number. He also knew it was pointless to ask the German what he wanted with such a call. Then he had an idea, maybe he could shock the German back. So he faked the most honest sounding concerned voice he could.
"How are you? Did the nurses help you?"
He considered it a victory after the twenty seconds of silence.
When Schuldig spoke again, the smugness had left his voice. "Want to meet me for some tea?"
Yohji stood speechless this time, fingers playing with the band of his watch, all the possible answers running around in his head. In the end, even he couldn't believe what he said or why.
"Where are you?"
"How is your wound?"
"Uh?" Schuldig blinked at Yohji and quickly relaxed back into his chair pushing his cup of tea away. He didn't really like the stuff, but he knew Yohji did. He also knew Yohji wouldn't say no to a free cup of it. "It's fine. Bullet just grazed me. Ten stitches. Want to see?"
"No, thanks," Yohji answered.
Schuldig nodded. "What about those people that wanted to kill you?"
"They're still out there, though they've quieted down, we haven't had any problems for a few days."
"That scares you," Schuldig said.
Yohji looked at him for a moment before answering. "Yeah I hate not knowing who I'm supposed to be fighting."
Schuldig matched his gaze before standing up and leaving a few dollars on the counter. "C'mon," he said. "Let's get some fresh air."
They walked side by side in silence. The only words they exchanged where when Yohji lit a cigarette and Schuldig told him that it was a nasty habit. Yohji told him to mind his own business, but a block later he threw the cigarette away. Yohji would glance at the redhead every so often. He wanted to ask him. What are we doing? Why are we doing it? But he never did.
The night was dark and quiet. Normally this wouldn't bother Yohji, but now it did. It made him edgy not knowing what lay beyond that darkness, behind the next corner, on top of those rooftops. He kept glancing inconspicuously behind him, his nerves attentive and cautious. He hated it, hated this fear. Hated being hunted instead of being the hunter. It even wasn't the first time someone had marked Weiss for death, but it was the first time that he felt so powerless about it. They couldn't even find any information about their attackers. It was causing Yohji to lose sleep. Still, he was a bit grateful just to be walking outside instead of being imprisoned in his apartment; even with all the restlessness, he was calmer than he had been in days. Even though he would never admit it, he felt safer having Schuldig around.
Suddenly Yohji felt a hand close on top of his, the warmth of fingertips against his skin, the comfort of them.
Yohji stared at Schuldig's hand holding his, holding it so tightly it almost hurt, and before he knew it Schuldig was leaning against him, brushing a stray line of hair away from his face, cupping his chin and bringing him closer.
Yohji quickly put his hands on Schuldig's shoulders and pushed him away. "No," he said firmly. "That can never happen."
Schuldig looked instantly annoyed. "If you didn't like me at some level in that messed up head of yours, you wouldn't have helped me. You wouldn't be here with me."
"A mistake? An accident? A moment of pure insanity? Or is it all of the above, Yohji?" Schuldig said, snatching at one of Yohji's hands. He looked down suddenly, rubbing his thumbs across the skin on Yohji's wrists. "I told you when you helped me, things have changed."
Yohji felt his body lock up when Schuldig raised his head and met his eyes, but it wasn't from the telepath's power or even fear. For a while Yohji could only think of how blue Schuldig's eyes were. Those eyes showed something he rarely saw, but always feared.
"Don't fall for me," Yohji said.
Schuldig stopped, blinked, and slowly released Yohji's wrist. He made a noise, something between a laugh and a grunt. "You're right," he said. "I'm just a delusional man. Isn't that what you told me once?"
Yohji had. The first time Schuldig had tried to touch him in a non-threatening way. He had called him that among many other worse things.
Schuldig was still staring at him, and Yohji couldn't remember when Schuldig placed his hands on his face, but there they were. Fingers traced his earlobe and cheek, pushed his hair back. Yohji knew Schuldig was going to try to kiss him again. Yohji knew that he was going to let him do it. Warm breath brushed against his lips, inching ever closer, but then it stopped and the warmth left. Hands no longer touched his face.
Yohji blinked and saw Schuldig standing a few steps away from him, his hands balled into fists. His eyes seemed distant now, but they still held some emotion. Then without a word he turned and disappeared into the night, leaving Yohji alone with the lingering feeling of warm breath on his lips.