I was going through old LiveJournal entries, when I came across the first part of this fic that I had scribbled down in there...and then I started revising it a little...and it turned into this. ^_^;;
Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz and the characters within do not belong to me, I'm just borrowing them for a bit.
Feedback is greatly appreciated!
Last Piece of the Puzzle
Closing his eyes wearily, Kudou Yohji tilted his head slightly - an indication that he was at least listening to the younger man. Given that this was Yohji, it was somewhat of an accomplishment in and of itself. Usually when he was in this kind of mood he did not make it easy to get through to him.
"What are you doing up here? It's freezing."
A barely perceptible shrug of the shoulders.
"Did you really come up here just to smoke?"
Again the shrug, accompanied by a puff of smoke.
"Your date's downstairs waiting for you."
Sighing heavily, Yohji stubbed his cigarette on the edge of the rooftop, sending the butt flying with a flick of his fingers. Rubbing his eyes with the other hand, Yohji sighed heavily. He was tired of keeping up his reputation as a notorious 'ladies man'. For one thing, it was tiring, always having to go out and keep up the pretence that he was having fun. And for a second thing, it was hell on his finances.
"Tell her I'm sick or something. I don't feel like going on a date right now."
Turning his head slightly as he caught movement at the corner of his eyes, Yohji's eyes narrowed slightly as the younger man seated himself beside him, legs dangling over the side of the roof.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" He asked coolly, knowing he was being an unbearable ass at the moment - and not particularly caring.
"Aya's keeping her company."
Whipping his head around to stare at Omi, Yohji's eyes widened as he caught the younger blonde's quiet - almost malicious sounding - chuckle. Unbidden, his mind quite happily provided him with images of carnage and bloodshed, courtesy of one highly annoyed Fujimiya Aya.
"Are you mad? He'll crucify her!"
Smiling sweetly at Yohji, Omi nodded.
Yohji gaped at the younger man, not quite sure how to deal with this previously unseen side to Omi. He almost seemed to be taking a perverse sort of pleasure in the fact that Yohji's date would be dealing with Aya. Was this part of Omi's heritage rearing its ugly head at last?
"What color are her eyes?"
The softly spoken question took Yohji by surprise, but whether it was the question itself or the tone of voice Omi used, Yohji couldn't say. Perhaps it was the fact that he couldn't remember what color her eyes were, and that bothered him far more than he would have liked.
Usually he made a point to pay attention to things like that - the women absolutely loved it. They thought it was romantic when he started spouting romantic lines about how their eyes matched some sort of gems. Or how their hair seemed to -
"Do you even know what color her eyes are?" Omi asked again, bright blue eyes sliding towards him.
No. But I know what color yours are. I can never forget. Bluer than anything else I've ever seen. More beautiful than any precious stone. But you wouldn't want to hear stuff like that coming from me, would you?
"Brown?" He hazarded, knowing it was as good a guess as any.
Omi sighed, blowing at a wayward lock of honey-gold hair that had fallen into his eyes, as he turned to look at the older man in exasperation.
"Blue, Yohji. They're blue."
You never used to forget the little things like that, Yohji. What's going on with you?
Frowning, Yohji glanced away from Omi, wondering why he hadn't noticed that earlier. Reiko was a lovely enough young lady, with her pleasant soft laughter and sunny smile, even if the look in her eyes was a bit...blank at times. And he loved running his fingers through her mane of bright golden hair and...
He couldn't be doing what he thought he was doing, was he? A quick look at Omi showed the younger man was apparently oblivious to his train of thought. Which only made sense, because Omi had no reason to know what he was thinking...he wasn't like that. Not like him, keeping an eye on pretty women...and the occasional young man.
And it was probably a good thing, too. Because Omi was still underage, and well...he deserved better than Yohji that was for damned sure. Or so he kept telling himself.
It didn't seem to be helping.
"Blue, huh? Thanks for letting me know, Omittchi. I'll remember that."
Omi gave him an odd look, and there was a wry twist to his lips that Yohji couldn't remember having seen before. Which was odd, because he knew Omi's facial expressions almost as well as he knew his own. Hadn't he made a point to study them whenever he had a chance? A slow, sly smile crossed his lips at the thought. Omi had this way of lighting up any room he walked into, and he was totally oblivious of that fact. It was...sweet...Yohji decided; the way the younger blonde was so painfully oblivious of his own brand of charm.
"No problem, Yohji...although...what do you see in her? She's kind of..." Omi trailed off, making a helpless gesture with his hands, which of course only made Yohji smile.
Omi was too polite to come out and say that he thought Reiko was a pretty little thing, if a little lacking in the intelligence department. It was cute, watching the blush spread across his cheeks. Omi got flustered far too easily in Yohji's opinion, but it was endearing. This of course was why he sometimes went out of his way to make Omi blush.
"She's not the brightest crayon in the box?" Yohji supplied helpfully, grinning unrepentantly as Omi glowered at him.
"Yohji! That's so mean!" Omi spluttered, throwing his hands up in frustration.
Yohji's grin widened, his eyes sliding towards Omi, who was pointedly not looking at the older blonde, his cheeks stained a bright red.
"Oh? And leaving Reiko to the tender mercies of Aya isn't?"
Omi's head snapped up at Yohji's words, blue eyes wide. Yohji tipped his head to the side, green eyes narrowed in amusement as he waited to see what Omi would say.
Fascinated by the way Omi's ears turned a bright shade of crimson, Yohji smiled encouragingly, though his eyes were smirking in delight. Arching an eyebrow, Yohji leaned back on his hands, canting a look at the younger blonde.
It was probably a bit cruel of him to tease Omi like that...but, well, it wasn't often that they a peaceful moment to themselves, what with the lives they led. And besides, he loved to see that little frown on Omi's face. That little line that creased his forehead just so, the way the skin around his eyes crinkled slightly, the slight downturn of his mouth....
"It's just that Ken's still sick, and Aya was just sitting in the living room reading, and someone needed to come get you, and it would have been rude to leave her alone like that, so..."
Yohji had to admit that Omi's rationalization had made a sort of sense. He doubted Ken could have so much as made it to the kitchen, much less up the stairs to the roof in his condition. And there was no way Aya would have lowered himself so far as to fetch Yohji for his date. Which only left Omi with the questionable honor of seeking Yohji out.
Although...leaving the her alone with Aya was just asking for a disaster of some sort. She was a talkative person who couldn't stand long awkward silences...and Aya was ever so adept at long, awkward silences. Somehow though, Yohji couldn't find it in himself to care all that much about the possible outcome of such a meeting.
Oh sure, there had been the natural, instinctive concern for her, but...well it wasn't like Aya was going to run the poor woman through with his katana or anything. He had too much control over his emotions to give in to an urge like that.
"You forgot to add the fact that you don't like her, you know, Omi." Yohji said mildly, watching the younger blonde curiously. "So why don't you? Like her, I mean."
Omi squirmed uncomfortably for a moment, deftly avoiding Yohji's eyes as he played fitfully with the frayed cuff of his sweatshirt.
"I...She's...Yohji, she's not the one for you." Omi blurted out, lifting his head to meet Yohji's startled eyes. "She doesn't understand you, Yohji. You should have heard her downstairs, going on and on about you, and she didn't know the first thing about you, Yohji. She didn't even know..."
Omi bit his lip to keep from telling Yohji the things his girlfriend had been saying. She really didn't have the first clue about the way Yohji worked, and it had been so painfully, blindingly obvious - even to Aya. She didn't know why Yohji liked orchids, didn't know why he liked listening to jazz...didn't understand his obsession with old detective movies...and obviously didn't care to learn why he did.
Was that the kind of woman Yohji wanted to settle down with? Get married to; have the requisite number of children with? Was she the kind of woman that Yohji wanted to grow old with? Assuming any of them would ever get the chance, but that was beside the point. Was Reiko what Yohji was looking for to fill that gaping void in his heart?
If she was, then Omi didn't have the right to say anything about it. It was Yohji's decision after all, and he was certainly old enough to know what he wanted.
"Omi...why does that bother you so much?"
Omi swallowed nervously, caught by Yohji's eyes. There was something there in the green depths that he couldn't quite define. Something that seemed to be waiting for him to say something. The right thing.
It bothers me because you deserve that much, Yohji. You deserve someone who understands you. Not just your words, but your silences too. You deserve someone who can be what you need them to be for you. You deserve love, Yohji, and she can't give that to you. Not the way you need.
But it was easier to put his words into thought than it was to say them out loud. He wanted to say them, knew he had to, but for some reason he couldn't get them past the knot of emotion clogging his throat. He made a frustrated sound, and dropped his head, honey-gold hair sliding forward to hide his eyes from Yohji's gaze.
Would you believe me, Yohji, if I told you I wanted to be that for you? Would you believe that I want to be the one who means the most to you in this world? Would you? Because you're already that person to me, Yohji. You always will be. So please, please just be happy, Yohji. That's all I want for you. To be happy.
Yohji knew the younger blonde well enough to know he was struggling with something. And he knew himself well enough to know that he couldn't leave Omi alone like that. Couldn't leave his friend fighting something inside of him that looked as though it might be killing him slowly.
"Does she make you happy, Yohji?"
Does she make you smile? Does she make you laugh? Does she make you forget, Yohji? Forget that you have blood on your hands, and sorrow in your heart? Does she do that for you, Yohji? Are you happy with her?
Yohji didn't have an answer for that.
He wasn't sure he remembered what being happy felt like. He knew he felt...a sort of contentment when he was with Omi and the others in the shop without the threat of a mission looming on the horizon. He liked being around them, even surly, grouchy, Aya. They were his friends, and they understood him best. He didn't have to hide anything from them, because they knew.
So...maybe that was a type of happiness in itself. Having people he could confide in, people he could trust. People he could laugh with, joke with...people he could tease...people he could call friend and mean it. They all had a special place in his heart, but there was still something missing. He could feel it like a physical ache at times.
It was the reason why he always had a line ready for anything feminine, pretty, over eighteen and breathing. Because he was looking for that one someone. The one who would fit into that niche in his heart. That one person who would be that missing piece. Only now, he wasn't quite so certain that he'd been going about it the right way. He'd just assumed that that person would be a woman, because...well, because that's just how it went, wasn't it?
Like in all the fairytales he'd heard as a little kid. And while he wasn't quite a prince, he was pretty sure that a princess of some sort was involved. Not another prince. But then again...fairytales were just children's stories. Real life never went the way you thought it would, and...sometimes that was a good thing.
"No...no she doesn't, Omi. She makes me forget that I'm not happy, but that's all she does."
Beside him, Omi twitched, as though surprised by Yohji's answer. Smiling, Yohji sat up, hands resting on his thighs as he stole a glance at the younger blonde. He could see Omi watching him through the fringe of his hair, blue eyes wide and...
It nearly broke Yohji's heart, to hear Omi sound like that. His voice a breathy little whisper, wild hope mingling with despair. Had he done that? Made Omi feel like that?
Reaching out a hand toward the younger blonde, Yohji gently gripped Omi's chin in his fingers, tipping his face up until he could clearly see Omi's eyes. His breath caught in his throat at what he saw in the endlessly blue depths.
That same wild hope that had been in his voice, unwavering friendship and loyalty, warmth and affection, and...something he would have called unconditional love, if he'd had the words for it. Or if the words would have done what he saw in Omi's eyes justice.
"I...I think she was just a substitute." Yohji said softly, marveling at the emotion he saw in Omi's eyes. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything like it directed solely at him.
"A substitute?" Omi repeated, his forehead creasing into a frown, blue eyes puzzled.
Yohji smiled, releasing Omi's face reluctantly.
"A substitute for the real thing." Yohji said, reaching for Omi's hand next to his.
Feeling the heat of Omi's eyes on him, Yohji carefully interlaced his fingers with those of the younger blonde. After a moment, he felt a small, almost imperceptible pressure on his fingers as Omi squeezed his hand hesitantly.
They sat that way for a few moments, enjoying each other's company and watching the city skyline, when Omi turned to look at him, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Don't you think that one of us should go down and rescue her from Aya? It's been a while..."
And things are a little too quiet. I don't think Aya would have killed her, but she was annoying...maybe he knocked her out or something...
Grinning, Yohji found it amazingly easy to ignore his conscience. A glance at Omi only helped to reinforce his decision.
"Maybe later Omi. For now let's...let's just enjoy the quiet, eh?"
Nodding, Omi scooted closer to Yohji, all but purring as the older blonde wrapped an arm around him, holding him close. Slanting a look down at Omi, Yohji couldn't help but wonder what he'd done to deserve the feeling of overwhelming contentment happiness he felt at that moment.
"Because you're you." Omi murmured, softly, staring back up into Yohji's eyes, a sweet smile gracing his lips. "You deserve it because you're you, Yohji. That's all there is to it."
Frowning, Yohji ran his fingers through Omi's hair, thrilling at the silky feel of it against his skin.
But was this happiness he felt? It had been so long, how could he be sure of it? He'd know, wouldn't he? If this really was happiness he felt, he'd know, wouldn't he?
One look at Omi snuggled against him was all the answer he needed, and more.