[Weiß Kreuz] Grief Title: Grief Authors:trio and petermaxwell Characters: Fujimiya Ran and Tsukiyono Omi Fandom: Weiß Kreuz Theme Set: LW2 Theme(s): Sad Warnings and Notes: Shounen-ai, mention of character death
Omi frowned, watching Ran methodically put each piece of his dinner in perfect arrangement on the plate, without a word. The redhead was acting as though he were setting the stage for the Coup de Grace of broccolli warfare, and if one TINY detail was out of place, the pot roast brigade would be successful.
"Is anal-retentive spelled with or without a hyphen...?" he muttered, poking at his own food as Yoji and Ken remained oblivious. As normal, Ran would finish readying his meal, grab his drink and vanish once more into the vast unknown of his own room. Omi was beginning to wonder just WHY he'd bothered moving back in, for all that he avoided the rest of them.
The quiet mutter caught Ran's attention, and the redhead glanced up, eyes narrowing at Omi in silent query.
Omi watched him in return, not bothering to speak again, but simply giving him a challenging stare. It was as if the boy were saying "And what are YOU going to do..." without so much as uttering a sound. He'd had enough of this. It was bad enough when they were fighting on a daily basis and Aya... RAN, he reminded himself... was the Ice King. Now, things were more calm, he'd spent the entire summer with his sister, and he was still this much of a prick?
"If you have something to say," Ran finally invited, his voice cool. He didn't finish the statement, but he didn't really have to. The rest was clear, and as he waited, he went back to arranging his plate, no longer looking at it.
"Fine. How long are you planning on being an ass this time?" Omi said, leaning his chin in his hand as Ken wisely scooped up his meal to vacate the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Omi saw the brunette snag Yoji as well, even though the rake-thin assassin seemed more than willing to sit and watch.
When they were both gone, Omi just waited, frowning at Ran. "Last time, it lasted years. How long are we going to have to deal with it this time?"
Ran stared back, considering and discarding several responses before finally settling on, "Perhaps years. Feel free to request having me reassigned." Even as he offered it, he frowned, something flickering in the back of his eyes at the thought of being sent to a new Kritiker group, or being handed a new cover.
"If I wanted you reassigned, I'd have done it already." Omi got to his feet then, moving towards Ran and pausing scant feet away from him. "What's gotten you?" he asked softly, worry showing in his own eyes. Despite all the annoyance of seeing Ran like this, Omi DID want to help his friend.
"I'm glad," Ran murmured, turning his attention back to his plate once more. "I prefer it here."
Omi leaned against the counter, watching him idly. "If you prefer it here... then why are you trying to drive us away?"
"I'm not," Ran said quietly, his hand stilling. "I..." He fell silent for a long minute, then set everything down, simply staring at his hands. "It's not safe."
Omi moved at that, letting his hand rest over one of Ran's. "It's NEVER safe around us," he whispered, tilting his head just a bit so that he could see the fleeting expressions on Ran's face... if there were even any. Without thinking, he slipped back into the old names. "Aya, talk to me. What happened?"
At that, Ran jerked sharply, tugging his hand away and staring at Omi. "Don't," he said, voice low and tight.
"I'm not going to be scared away, no matter how much you push," Omi replied levelly, not tearing his gaze away for even a moment. "Tell me."
"Don't call me by that name," Ran returned, jaw tensed. He stared at Omi for several silent seconds, then shook his head. "Never again."
That explains it... Omi stepped back a pace, but left his hand where it had fallen on the counter. "What happened to her?"
Ran swallowed, the pain from him almost suffocatingly thick as he stared at Omi. But then he turned away, shaking his head. He didn't speak, wasn't even sure his throat would allow sound as he headed out of the room. His plate lay on the counter still, left behind.
Omi stayed where he was for a moment. Whatever happened, it was bad. His mind raced over a few possibilities, but he winced whenever he came to his final decision... which each thought pattern invariably brought him to.
Aya was dead.
Once that thought settled firmly into his mind, he moved to pad after Ran, his own food left behind and forgotten. As he moved up the stairs to the apartments, he tried to think of ways to possibly break the redhead out of his shell before he was lost as well.
Aya's door was shut when he reached it, the room beyond silent. It seemed dark, too, if the crack under the door were any indication.
There was no way he was going to be admitted, Omi knew that. So instead of even asking permission with a knock, he simply grasped the knob and turned, opening the door and stepping inside before a reprimand could be uttered.
It was dark in there, only the light from the street beyond giving any sort of illumination. And Ran was sitting on his bed, back to the wall as he simply stared at the ceiling. "Will you listen, if I tell you to leave?" he asked, sounding tired.
The door closed behind Omi and he moved to pad on bare feet across the carpet. "No," he answered simply, continuing forward until he was standing next to the bed, watching the darkened lump of shadow that Omi was certain was his friend.
"You always were stubborn," Ran whispered, eyes closing.
"Almost as stubborn as you." Omi's voice was soft when he answered, the boy not really needing to know what happened any longer. Now all that mattered was keeping Ran from retreating into his shell again. "Ran, I'm worried about you... you can't do this to yourself again."
"Can't?" Ran asked softly, his head bowing. "It'd be more accurate to just say you don't want me to." He was silent a moment longer, then scooted away from Omi a little, closer to the window. The stark light of the streetlamps caught his face, revealing the grief he hadn't yet shown. And he patted the bed beside him, rather than offer aloud.
"No," Omi answered, keeping his voice soft was he crawled up onto the bed next to Ran. He bit on his lip for a moment as he sawt he etched lines on Ran's face. "I mean, you can't do this again. Ran, you're pulling away from everything and everyone. If you let yourself do that often enough, then eventually you can't come back."
"I'm not sure it's worth coming back," Ran admitted softly, eyes opening as he looked over at Omi.
Omi knelt on the bed beside him, blue eyes seeming almost as dark as the night sky. He wasn't sitting in shadow... but even in the moonlight, the troubled expression brought about the change in his gaze. "Are we not worth it anymore?" he asked softly.
Ran hesitated for long minutes, then shook his head. "I don't... know, Omi," he murmured, silver glittering on his cheeks in faint lines when he turned his face away once more.
Omi held his breath for a moment, part of him wanting to wipe away the tear... and part marvelling in the beauty of it. He leaned forward without another word, pressing his lips to the soft skin of Ran's cheek, over the salted droplet so that he could taste it. He wasn't really sure WHY he made the move... but he knew he didn't want to pull away just yet. "Maybe I can make myself worth it?"
The shocked, shuddery breath that Ran drew in coupled with a hand reaching out in the darkness to grip Omi's, holding it tightly as Ran took a long minute just to breathe. He had no idea what to say to that, and couldn't even begin to explain how much the simple kiss had rocked his core, threatening the control that held back a flood of more tears.
Leaning his head forward, Omi rested against Ran's cheek, flicking his gaze upward to watch him. He clung to Ran's hand, letting the other man know that he was NOT going anywhere. "I need you here, Ran... You can't leave me again." He bit down on his lip again, wondering if he was giving away too much too soon. He'd always harboured feelings for the stoic redhead, but never truly felt the need to express them. Now, however, that need was pressing on him, and he felt as though if he DIDN'T express them, he'd lose whatever slim chance he might have had.
"I... don't know if I can stay," Ran whispered, his eyes closing once more. The warmth was helping, soothing and calming in a way he hadn't expected, and he found himself drawing Omi closer, settling him against Ran's own side. "I'll... try."
Smiling softly, Omi rested his head against Ran's shoulder, watching the moon as it started to dip behind the building across the alley. "That's all I can ask for," he answered, one hand coming to splay lightly over Ran's chest. "Will you let me help?"
"I'll try," Ran whispered, closing his eyes and slowly relaxing. "...Stay?"
"Gladly." Omi nearly purred as he settled in beside Ran, just watching the other man finally relax.