One Song Glory: part one
23 May 2000
Van Donovan
trowa@trowa.com
---------------------

I listened to Roger's song "One Song Glory" from the musical RENT on instant repeat to write
this. It's morbid and sad and does contain shounen-ai. This is your warning.

Special thanks to Pluto, to whom this fic wouldn't have even been concieved. Well, perhaps
it would have, but the pairing is for her entirely. ^_^

--------

"Where's Youji?"
"He's feeling sick again, and taking the day off," piped Omi to answer the angry
redhead. Aya never was pleased when any of them took sick days, and this was Youji's third
in just as many weeks. He pulled his apron over his head, violet eyes narrowed. "He was
out late, Ayakun, he needs the rest," the youngest Weiß added.
"Out on personal pleasures doesn't allow for slacking." Aya firmly stated going to
man the register. Omi looked up from the arrangement of cataylilies he was working on and
shook his head with a soft smile.
"Mou, give him -some- slack Ayakun. I'm worried about him." Omi didn't mention the
fact that Ken was missing too. For some reason Aya always tended to let the young soccer
player slack off more than the womanizer. Omi suspected it was because Youji was oldest and
should have set an example, and Ken was -always- late because he was playing with children.
Omi was quite sure Aya had an affinity for kids.
Omi put some fern into his arrangement and sighed. Aya looked up as a customer came
into the shop. "There is nothing to worry over," the redhead said. "He simply needs to
get his priorities straight."
Conversation was cut short as the customer went to ask about flowers and Omi had to
run in the back to check their stock while Aya dealt with the other questions.

-----

Sitting up hurt. Breathing hurt. His head hurt. Smoking hurt.
A lot.
That didn't stop his trembling fingers from flicking a lighter on. His zippo fired
to life, the flame burning blue-white, and he dipped his head to ignite the unfiltered end
to the flame. He switched the lighter off and took a long pull on the cigarette, letting
the nicotine hit his spot and exhaling. He didn't usually smoke inside, but he felt
wretched. Really, really sick. He couldn't get up to go outside to smoke.
"What's wrong with you, Kudou?" He murmured, running his free hand through a tangled
mess of honey-blonde locks. If this hadn't been happening more and more, he would have
dismissed it as a twenty-four hour flu bug, or a hangover or some such thing, but it was
happening a lot. Generally he was able to function feeling shitty, but like right now, he
was too dizzy and nauesous to even stand up.
He pulled another calming draught on his cigarette and leaned back, closing his
eyes, letting the smoke float out of his mouth, trying to focus on something other than the
pain in his chest. "This is stupid." he groaned and sat up, clutching his head and swinging
his legs off the bed. He found his equilibrium and then stood, shakily. He'd been avoiding a
doctor even more than resting, and it wasn't clearing up. He was feeling worse. He was
probably sick with some virus and needed some sort of anti-biotic. He crushed his cigarette
into the ashtray and started downstairs, not bothering to doll himself up. He looked as bad as he
felt. He didn't -care-.
"Oi, Aya . . ." He muttered, poking his head into the flower shop. He knew the red-
head was pissed at him for missing another day of work, but he didn't care about that,
either. He needed to go to the doctor's.
The boy with the sister complex looked up from the register, eyes a cruel glare upon
hearing his voice, but softening just slightly seeing his bedraggled expression. Omi was
there too, and his eyes widened a lot seeing the always-well-kept man so scruffy looking.
"Youjikun! You should be in bed!" Omi cried, getting to his feet. Aya glanced at
Omi and then back to Youji, agreement in his eyes.
"I need to go to the doctor." He said, rubbing his eyes clean of sleep. "I'm must
have some virus." He looked at Omi and smirked. "I don't wanna infect any of you, now, so
I need to get something to clear this up," he glanced back to Aya, a bit more seriously.
"I know I've been missing too many days as it is," Aya nodded a little. "Can you take me,
Aya? I don't trust myself to drive right now."
Both Omi and Aya blinked, because for Youji not to be independent enough to drive
himself meant he was -really- feeling bad. Aya looked at Youji a moment longer, to see if
the man had some ulterior motive and then nodded, feeling the other was sincere.
"All right. Omi, you'll be okay? Ken should be in soon," Aya asked. Omi nodded
enthusiastically. Aya grabbed his keys and headed for his car, Youji shuffling along after
him. Omi called a "get well soon!" that was cut off as Youji let the back door slam behind
him. He crawled into Aya's jeep and buckled up, holding himself delicately. Some days he
felt completely fine, and felt like nothing was wrong, but then it'd come back and smack him
in the face like now. He felt like he was going to die.
Too pessimistic.

-----

"Oi, Youji, you got a hospital bill!" Ken handed the letter over to Youji, who
looked up from where he was leaning over his ramen, slurping it down with abandon. He was
feeling much better since his hospital visit a few weeks ago. The doctor had prescribed
some antibiotics and they seemed to have kicked whatever was ailing him.
"I already got a bill," he muttered and plucked the letter from Ken's hands. He
yawned and set his bowl down, wiping his hands on his jeans. Aya glanced at him and then
at the envelope as he fished a knife out of the kitchen drawer to open the letter with. Omi
was out at an after school activity. Ken bounced back out to the flower shop, finished with
his lunch and flipping through his sports magazine that'd arrived. Aya had gotten no mail
and just looked back at his reflection in his ramen.
The soft tearing of the envelope was calm enough. The unfurling of the paper was a
bit unsettling. Aya closed his eyes as he imagined Youji reading over the words of the
paper. He looked up, hearing no motion from Youji. "Well?" He inquired, almost knowing
already what the letter would say, and how Youji would answer.
"Eh? Oh, it's nothing," the blonde said, stuffing the letter into the envelope.
Aya's eyes caught the tremble of his hand. He stood up, his chair scraping on the kitchen
tile and pulled the envelope from Youji's hand in an uncharacteristic act. "Oi, Aya!" Aya
raised his hand to silence Youji. He wanted to know what was going on. Youji's shoulders
slumped and just told him. "It's nothing, Aya, they just want me to go in for some more
testing."
"When? I'll go with you."
Youji blinked, looking up at him, stunned at the other's sudden concern. "Aa, it
says on there somewhere. May 19th, I think. Why the sudden interest? It's none of your
concern." Youji said, dumping his noodles into the sink.
"That's tomorrow." Aya shook his head. "This is serious."
"No it's not! It's nothing!" Youji shouted and shut the water off, looking at the
dirty dishes in the sink. "It's just nothing. It doesn't mean -anything-."
"Youji,"
"NOTHING!" He shouted and spun around, leveling Aya with a verdant glare.
Aya just bore him back with a similar amethyst stare, but said nothing. Regardless,
he was going to go in with Youji for the testing. He wouldn't let him do it alone.
"Oi, something wrong in here you two?" Ken inquired, poking his head into the room.
Youji turned his back to the younger and shook his head.
"Nothing wrong Ken, I'm done here," he said, dried his hands off and pushed out of
the kitchen to help in the flower shop. Aya sadly watched him go.

-----

"Please, sit down Mister Kudou."
Youji didn't want to sit. He didn't want to be in this office with this man, and he
really didn't want Aya shadowing him like a wraith. He felt -fine-. He didn't want to hear
whatever this man with a PhD had to say. He wanted to go back to the flower shop and tend
to the blossoms and flirt with pretty girls.
He sat.
The doctor glanced to Aya and then nodded to the other vacant chair. He assumed if
Youji had him along, he wanted the other there for moral support. Youji's fingers twitched
like he wanted a cigarette. The doctor frowned, and took a breath. It was always so hard
to break the news to patients. Youji looked anxious. He knew -something- was up. Aya
beside him seemed cool and placid. He didn't think the other would be moved by anything the
doctor could say at all.
"We got the results from your tests back," he began the normal routine, and Youji
watched him with a cold-green fury boiling in his eyes. He wanted to cut the cat-and-mouse
chase and get to the point.
"Skip it, doc. Just tell me what I have: Lung cancer? Diabetes? A tumor?"
"HIV." He said, firmly, looking Youji back in the eyes.
The other's grip on the chair tightened, and his eyes widened a little, reflexively.

Then, his world came crashing down.



-- end part one--