Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the Weiss plot, but I do own this little story. Take it and die.
Warnings: angst? fuzz? cute boy-love? yeah, that's it. author's notes are at the end.
All the World for You
Part 3
I cleaned the dead bees off the windowsill today. They're resting in a little white box in my pocket. I'm going to take them outside, to the back alley, and burn them once I get off work. I'd bury them, but there's no yard around the flower shop to bury them in. I think Omi would get upset if I buried them in a bag of potting soil. Besides, a funeral pyre seems like the right thing to do.
The shop has been almost empty today. Most of the girls have gone home. Omi's at his apartment, cramming for an exam. Aya's in the back room, taking inventory before we close the shop for the night, and Yohji's running some late deliveries. That means it's up to the dead bees and me to take care of the front of the shop until closing time. I've over-watered two plants, spilled fertilizer on the floor, and sold one bouquet of roses to a business man in a hurry. Eventful.
I'm not sure what to do with myself anymore. I don't know why I exist. I don't know why I even try. Sometimes I just want everything to end, sometimes I think I've had enough.
But sometimes I think that, if I keep living a little longer, things will get better. And maybe they will. Yohji...is helping, I think. Knowing that someone in this world cares about what I feel like makes a difference. Before, it was just me. I was part of Weiss, but I was by myself. In my head, I was all alone.
But now, when the things in my head become too much, and I just want to scream, I can talk to him. Because he says he cares. He says he loves me. And I think I believe him. I've known him too long to doubt him; I know that he would never lie to me. I know that I trust him more than I trust any of the other members of Weiss.
I'm not sure if I love him, I'm not sure if I can ever love him. I'm not sure that I know what love is anymore. I thought I loved Kase, but I don't know. I mean...what is love? People talk about soul mates and best friends, they talk about couples destined to be together. I'm not sure if I believe any of that. Yohji knows this; I told him the day he told me he loved me. That was almost a week ago.
Since then, things have been...different. He stays in at night. He finds excuses to be around me, or to touch me. I catch him staring at me from across the shop, and I suppose it's not something he just now started doing. But it's something I'm just now noticing, because now I'm staring at him all the time.
I think I like it. I like the fact that he wants me, loves me. I've thought about it almost constantly since then.
Aya comes out of the back room, breaking my thoughts and bringing me back to reality. The plant I've been watering has overflowed onto the table, leaving trails of dirty water and dripping onto the floor. That's the third one today.
Aya grabs his apron and a towel from one of the supply shelves and comes over to where I am. He takes the hose from my hand and shoves the towel at me, looking rather angry. I can't blame him; I've created a mess.
"Once you clean that up, you can go," he says, turning away from me to water a different plant.
I don't bother responding; it's not necessary. I quickly run the towel over the table and then the floor, absorbing as much of the murky water as I can. It's not perfect, but it'll do. Besides, I really want to go. Technically, I'm not supposed to leave until Yohji gets back, so someone is around to help Aya clean up before closing, but I guess Aya is pissed enough that he doesn't want me around right now. That's fine with me. He can clean by himself.
I toss the towel onto the front counter and hang up my apron. I pat my pockets to make sure I've got both the bees and a lighter before heading through the supply room and out the back door. Once I'm in the alley, I walk past where all the cars are parked. Beyond the cars, but before the shop's dumpster, there's a flat piece of asphalt scorched with black. I'm not sure what happened there, it's been scorched since I came to work at the shop, but I've decided that it's the best place for the bees. The sun is beginning to set, turning the sky brilliant shades of red and purple. The perfect atmosphere for a funeral.
I pull the box out of my pocket and open it up, just to make sure. They could have come back to life; they could have escaped from the box and could be running rampant in my pants. But they aren't. They're laying dead. One of them has fallen apart, his head in one corner and the rest of him in another. Sad.
I place the lid back on the box and set it down on the asphalt. I sit down in front of it, my back to the shop. I pull out the lighter and reach forward, towards the little box of little bees. I can hear the back door to the shop swing open as I flick the lighter. Orange flame dances along the edge of the box before catching fully. The side of the box wilts instantly, turning a blackish color as the fire spreads along. I pull my knees to my chest and rest my chin on them, wrapping my arms around my legs. I'll stay here to make sure the bees are alright.
Footsteps echo in the alley and I know that Yohji has come out and is standing behind me. I know it's him because there is no one else. No one else would come out here, no one else would care.
"I'm burning bees," I tell him without turning, without waiting for him to ask. He needs to know, so I tell him.
"Mind if I join you?" he asks, and I hear the snap of his own lighter as he lights a cigarette. I shrug, my sign to him that he can do what he wants. I really wouldn't mind if he was to sit next to me. In fact, I think I'd really like that.
Yohji takes a few more steps, until he's next to me, before he sits down. I don't look at him as he makes himself comfortable, his legs out in front of him, resting his arms on his knees. His cigarette dangles from one hand, its end glowing the same color as the box. He's close to me; close enough for me to lean over and rest my head on his shoulder if I want to. If I want to. I think I want to. I think such odd thoughts nowadays.
I watch the smoke rise from the dead bee-box as I lean against Yohji. His shoulder is warm and, despite the fact that he's not nearly as fluffy as my pillow, I decide that it's a good resting place for my head. I can feel-hear him sigh, and he runs his fingers through my hair. Small ashes float up from the now-crumbling box, landing on my pants and clinging to my hair and sweatshirt. The box collapses on itself, making a weak hissing noise. Smoke rises up and disappears into the dusk, taking with it dead bees and thoughts.
I think I like this. I think, maybe, that I can be happy like this. Yes, I think I can.
If I was to tip the world upside down for you
What would you think, what would you do?
Would you be impressed with this new worldly view?
Or ask that I change it all back for you?
If I was to break all the rules for you
What would you think, what would you do?
Would you love me back like I dream you do?
Or pretend I do not exist to you?
If I was to give up my life for you
What would you think, what would you do?
Would you lie and say that you never knew
That I've always felt this way for you?
I would give up all my world for you
Just to know you love me too.
Notes: so....yeah. I've been working on this little thing a long time. Four hours, now. I waited nine months to write this freaking epilogue, and it only took four hours. jesus. It's not very long, either. But that's a-okay. Thank you to the people who reviewed, and I apologize profusely for taking so freaking long to make this epilogue. Maybe, in another nine months, I'll fix the formatting on the previous two chapters. Heh. Anyways, thanks for reading.
Oh. I almost forgot. This story was inspired by a poem I wrote about a year ago. It's up there above the notes. I figured I should include it here in the epilogue...just in case anyone cares...or not. sigh. The story itself morphed enough that it's not really like the poem anymore, but I included it anyways. it's called 'all the world for you.'