Tainted Romance

Chapter VII

Carry On

A Weiss Kreuz Fanfiction

Part seven of seven

Revised

Tears would never reach these eyes.

This heart so shrouded in iced stone.

Will the day come, when I am finally free?

Forever eternal, to live alone.

Tears will never reach these eyes, no emotions hold within this heart, darkened with death and sorrow.

A death vice holds tight to me, it clenches taking what it wills.

A death vice holds tight to me, and no emotion floods through; but this pain.

Tears will never reach these eyes; then why is it I cry?

Aya returned the distorted brunette home, hefting him gently up against his back, leaving his arms to drape over his shoulders. He could hear the brunette's soft breathing as he drifted into an induced slumber, his head cradled against his shoulder and his breathing soft against his neck. He breathed in another sigh as he closed his eyes, keeping Ken's weight forward.

An unknown relief had spread across him to find him unharmed. It warmed him, taking the coldness the unknown distress had caused. But there was something more, something more that gently spread over him like the warmth Ken's body presented, pressed and tucked against his own. He could feel the comfort that settled within his heart at the slightest touch his skin caught, mingling with his.

This embrace, this emotion; he could not find its word, its name. It lingered, and never fully left him, no matter how he struggled. It didn't care; it had embedded itself within him after somehow managing to slip through his barrier, and now it was beginning to melt the barrier from the inside out.

He let out a soft growl, this was unlike him. He wasn't accustomed to letting his emotions come into light, they'd always remained in check. He'd blocked them away, letting the ice barricade he'd created keep them away. Aya shook his head, trying to purge himself of such things. He hadn't felt in such a long time, and these things were new to him. He couldn't rationalize, his impinatrable barrier, the barricade strong hold that held him together for so long, was now braking.

What was it then, this truth to the comfort, and relief he felt, the soft tingle that spread through him as the mans breath caressed his neck. The small pressure he felt at the corner of his lips, tugging at them in a small smile. The luxury of happiness.

And the crack deepened within the barrier.

But this was not complete, it wasn't whole. This small piece, it was only a fraction of a whole, this feeling; but what was it, this lingering doubt, this all consuming emotion?

It was so long, to have finally felt what he did not know. He couldn't place a name to what it was. His heart plagued with the swirl of deepening depths unimaginable, the lingering doubt of this all consuming emotion. His mind searching through memories… Aya-chan.

"Ran-niisan, will you read this to me?"

"hm?"

"Niisan, this book, will you read it to me?"

"What is it?"

"My favorite! It's a book about love. This girl meets her love, and its wonderful Niisan! Oh! She loves him so very much! You can feel it, it's so warm. You can feel it glow from within you when you read it."

"Niisan, do you think that's what love is? A warm glow?"

Her laugh resonates, always filled with passion, her hair cascading around her face as she spins. "I think so. I think it's a warm glow. A warm glow that you can feel all over, but it stays in one place." A pause as she thinks deeply, her hand slowly placing atop her heart.

"It's always right here."

In the heart

Love.

This word, this word he never experienced. 'A warm glow that you can feel all over, but it stays always right here, within the heart.'

A serene calm overcame him as realization hit. The emotion calming to its name, the name it belonged to.

Ken suddenly stirred, his body shivering slightly against his despite the added body heat he provided. Aya increased his pace; his fever had returned. Worry drifted over him, Ken shouldn't have been out in his condition. The weather was icy, the air nipping at your skin in cold waves, taking away the warmth it had possessed trying to lock it in.

The snow began falling just before they reached the Koneko, leaving tiny snowflakes to rest within Ken's ruffled chocolate locks before melting into tiny tears that dampened them. This worried him more; the tiny snowflakes that melted took away what was left of the warmth he possessed. He increased his pace another step once again, the snow coming faster as he turned the corner.

"Aya!" Omi's comforted voice broke through, the familiar sound of the wind chime against the koneko's door singing as the door opened. Without a further word, he held the door open, ushering Aya in quickly.

Aya saw him as he stepped through the shops door, standing silently and unemotional in the doorway to the den, a white towel draped over his arms. Youji's eyes bore into his, questioning him, the pain for the brunette he held obvious. They were almost accusing. Accusing in the way you defend, defend those you love from further hurt. Saving them from the pain of a wounded heart, his eyes foretelling the pain he saw in the eyes behind closed lids the brunette's orbs told. The blonde told him what to expect, should further pain be given to the broken heart he held.

Aya stopped before him, his eyes pleading beneath his crimson locks. Let me help him, his amethyst eyes asked wordlessly, he had no intention of causing him pain. Youji lowered his eyes, turning his gaze to the shivering brunette he held, and without acknowledging words; he stepped away.

Aya looked to him, seeking to meet his eyes, but the blonde didn't comply, he hid between the shadows of the den and the light the Koneko brought.

Head bowed Aya stepped forward, looking to the sofa hidden in the darkness. He stepped past, climbing the stairs slowly, carefully shifting Ken's weight forward. A gentle hand appeared from behind, giving him trust; Youji. He wouldn't fall.

He laid him gently atop his bed, Youji taking his weight as he lowered him. Aya turned running a hand through his own sodden hair as he searched the room. The moonlight seeping through the frosted windows enough to give light to the items that rest within the athlete's room.

The room felt alive and lived in, the desired feeling one wanted. Discarded clothes scattered the floor, and soccer gear piled to the corner by the door. Mud clinging to the worn cleats and grass stains decorating the much used soccer ball. He took it all in, everything noted and placed strategically. However, this room did not feel like a home. No posters adjourned the walls and items did not lie atop the furniture. No pictures hung of family or friends, but a single worn photo held by the dressers mirror in its corner of his former J-league days. A single oversized leather chair sat to the corner against the window, a simple lamp placed with on the small nightstand beside the bed. He noticed the book; it was the only accessory that lay about. It was old, his hardback binding haggard, its cover void.

He pushed away notions of observation, stepping to the dresser. Searching, he filed through the two top drawers before finding something suitable; a simple white long sleeved shirt with a small logo facing the back and a long pair of black jaw string pants.

Youji seated himself beside the brunette, the towel still in hand as he brushed away dampened chocolate locks, trying to dry him. Aya waited as the blonde dried his hair before stripping him of his clothes and replacing them. He sighed inspecting the wound, thankful he hadn't reopened or stressed the area.

Omi strode in silently with a thick blanket overlaying his arms, quietly laying it atop the shivering brunette.

Youji smiled sadly down upon his friend, pushing the comforters up and around his shoulders. He rose, looking to Aya as he watched dejectedly. A small sympathetic smile curved his lips as walked to and placed the towel atop his head, giving it a small ruffle before striding from the room with the youngest member of Weiss.

The room became increasingly still in the darkness as the light given from the hall fleeted as the door closed. The silence tore at him, eating at him with much more force. His hands clutched the shirt, Ken's, he hadn't managed to place down yet, they wrung at it, stressing it between his palms.

Guilt had washed over him. Fear, for being close to losing him, for the brunette was breaking. Sorrow, unable to find the words he wished to express.

He tore his eyes from the sleeping brunette. He pulled them to the shirt he still held and released the pressure from his grip. His sight fell to the floor, and the few discarded clothes that covered it; he gingerly picked them up and placed the folded clothes atop the dresser, returning to the slumbering form.

His fingers delicately brushed against the heated flesh, brushing away the chocolate locks that managed to obscure his eyes once again. A small flinch crossed the brunette's face; Aya's hand recoiled, keeping the silent sigh from escaping his lips.

He could feel the strings of sleep falling as his mind stirred from its slumber. He could feel the extra warmth that covered him, and the light weight clothes that pressed against him. And he could feel the unknown presence that settled within the room, even before his subconscious fully awoke.

Siberian was alert, yelling within him with the skills of an assassin. Danger, someone is near.

Where was he? The last thing he remembered was the sidewalk. Someone had pushed him from behind... And the warmth of the rescuing arms that embraced him. He could remember the gentle pressure of the arms that wrapped around him, steadying him as he fell into oblivion. But the assassin within him hadn't fought then, he'd remained silent.

His eyes slowly lifted, opening to the darkness that surrounded him. He blinked, unmoving.

The darkness yielded as his eyes adjusted, the gentle moonlight that bathed the room giving the only light he needed. He pressed himself to look around the objects washed by the gentle light spilling from the window.

His room.

Siberian fell silent.

Slowly, he pulled his body to sit up, pushing away the blankets that clung to him. He was overheated; he could feel the sweat that dampened his skin, his clothes clinging to his body. His mind was groggy, willing him to return to the sleep that once held him. He pushed away the notion, noticing the slender figure at his beds end, asleep.

'God, Aya! You scared the shit out of me!' His body slumped forward, the sudden unknown tension easing with the haggard breath he released. He ran a hand over his face and lifted his head back to the slender form. His back was stiffly pressed against the wall, one leg cascading over the bed, the other propped up, his arm curled atop it and his head resting upon it.

He awoke to the subtle movements of the bed and the soft sound of feet against carpet receding across the room. The night's events returning to him once again as his eyes found him tucked beneath the window, basking in the light the moon cast upon him. His eyes were closed, his agile form leaning into the corner, sitting as he watched with closed eyes. He didn't know what to do, his mind refused to register, his emotions spilling like water; his barrier cracked and shattering. Would he just sit here, watching?

"I know you're awake." The deeply soft voice spun like silk of the deepest color, blood red with the pain it held. His from, pressed to the window, didn't move, his eyes opening to return to the snow that continued to fall.

Aya watched him, unsure; wishing the words he willed would come to him. Ken's eyes wouldn't meet his.

"Was it you?" Aya blinked, confused.

"The sedative, was it Youji, Omi?" Ken didn't repeat his question, but returned with another. Again, he didn't answer, the brunette already knew his answer.

A forced breath escaped his lips, his eyes once again closing with pain, leaning into the cold comfort the window carried, "Why are you here?" It was barley heard, whispered with such pain, but Aya caught it, his ears straining against it.

Ken didn't expect an answer, not from him, he wasn't even sure the redhead had heard it. "I was worried… about you."

"It's not like you." The voice was solid even if small, his eyes still wouldn't look to his; always to the snow that fell. To the cold night that froze everything, to the grey haze.

"Omi…." He wasn't sure he could continue, what was it that he wanted to say?

He watched as his face contorted with pain, his head falling down against the window pane. "Why, why are you doing this to me?" his voice never rose, continuing to whisper in pain in the blood red silk thread that threatened to break.

Aya could feel the pain he radiated, the depth of the emotion that welled within the boy and his heart wrenched. He was broken, the still form that used to radiate with such simple joy, the masks of smiles even if he wasn't feeling them he displayed. He was secluding himself; he could feel him distancing himself. He could feel the small barriers he was placing to avoid the pain. His eyes were blank, devoid, no longer holding the glitter for life.

"Because, you managed to break through." Aya managed to slowly bring the words from the depths inside him, his voice so small. "You broke through the barriers I had placed around myself."

He rose from the bed, taking a shaky step forwards. He didn't even realize he'd taken himself from the bed, his heart so intent on relieving the pain that flowed from this broken form. "I haven't felt anything in so long; I wasn't sure what it was."

"You scared me; you had managed to effortlessly destroy what I had built to protect myself. It's how I've lived, and to have them taken from me; it scared me." He pressed forward, his body consciously aware of the close proximity to the brunette. He rose a hand, gently turning to lift his chin with his fingers; the brunette pulled away. Hesitantly, Aya took his face again, turning it to him once again; he didn't pull away a second time.

He couldn't tell if his words were heard or felt, the brunette felt to far gone, wrapped deep within himself. No brief glitter sparked within the dull brow orbs. And he could feel his heart drive knives through itself, already knotted with pain.

He lowered his head, his crimson strands falling to entangle with chocolate as he pressed his head to his. His hands deftly cradled the mans head, holding him closely.

He whispered, "Don't close yourself off from me. Don't pull away. I'm not leaving, I won't…." He paused, "You broke through my defenses with just a single glance. Taking everything I thought I'd built up over the years and breaking it. And it scared me… I was afraid Ken, afraid you might not feel the same, afraid of what it might mean. Afraid of you one day realizing you might not feel the same anymore and leaving. I didn't think I could handle that. I was so afraid of having everything I knew and loved taken away from me again, that I didn't want to get close. But seeing you hurt... I couldn't… I couldn't not… Aishiteru Ken. I love you."

Warm lips suddenly descended upon the brunettes, pressing against them. Tenderly caressing, pressing upon the corners of his mouth, lightly pressuring. Devoid eyes sparked, closing to let a single tear cascade down his cheek and fall between their lips. His arm snaked up, clutching the cloth of Aya's shirt tightly within his palm.

Stunned to say the least, he could feel warmth spread from him, enveloping him, controlling. The coldness, the darkness, the emptiness; dissipated. Slowly, his embraced the warmth, embracing the lips pressed against his own.

A kiss that conveyed his sincerity, showing what words could not. He nibbled upon the brunettes bottom lip, lightly brushing across the swollen red lips with his tongue, seeking entrance. A moan elucidated from the brunette now pressed against the cold window pane sent a shiver of pleasure dancing upon Aya's spine.

His tongue slipped past moist lips, entering the moist cavern. He delighted in it, delving into the sweet taste of Ken, something he noted between a mix of hot chocolate and vanilla ice cream; savoring it. His tongue swept across his teeth, sweeping over to familiarize himself with every inch of him.

Heated the kiss became gentle once again; Aya slowing to brake away, touching his forehead to his and breathing.

His hand slid forward, taking Ken's and entwining their fingers together before he opened his eyes. Ken's eyes eluded him; hidden beneath the too long coffee colored locks, his head downcast and pressed against his own. A smile tugged at his lips at Kens flushed cheeks. Cautiously, he raised his head to shift the locks that obscured the eyes he wished to see.

His head fell into the embrace, his eyes downcast. Aya tilted his head to the side, leaning down slightly to catch the eyes with his own, "Ken," he paused.

Chocolate orbs sparkled, up, still within his hands embrace; Searching his own, delving deep into his own amethyst eyes for answers, sincerity.

Ken's body suddenly shook, clinging to him with such force he craved more. Ken buried his head against his chest, wishing to be enveloped in his arms. "Don't… Don't leave." The voice sounded desperate, barely audible it repeated, "Don't leave." Fear laced his words repeated endlessly.

Joy flooded through Aya's very existence, his arms enveloping the fragile form before him. Drawing him close, basking in the warmth pressed to him, the love that he held.

"Niisan, do you think that's what love is? A warm glow?"

Her laugh resonates, always filled with passion, her hair cascading around her face as she spins. "I think so. I think it's a warm glow. A warm glow that you can feel all over, but it stays in one place."

His walls had fallen, and the rubble had left him seeking. Seeking the love that broke through and desperately clutching to it. Strength flooded him, he wasn't alone. Pain, fear, hope, happiness, joy; he was vulnerable. His walls weren't completely broken however, the rubble still remained, but it too would dissipate in time. It would melt the same way his walls of shrouded ice had. He would fight not to build those walls back up again. He wouldn't leave himself unprotected, some walls would always remain, but they were different walls. Helpful walls. He couldn't change overnight, but it was a beginning. A beginning he looked forward to with elation, spending it with the form pressed to him; the person who had broken through.

Owari.