Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz and its characters do not belong to me and no profit is garnered from doing this.

Warnings: Some spoilers, friendship or shounen ai, depending on how you choose to see it.

Author's Notes: This came as a result of stressful papers and finals week and my muse deciding that sticking to stories I'd already started was boring.

A Note on Timelines: This is supposed to take place in the anime somewhere after episode 17 or so.

Explode

By Rapunzel

It was an odd feeling, being at loose ends. Aya wasn't at all sure that he liked it. Having nothing definite to do left him feeling restless and unfulfilled, and neither of those were feelings he was fond of. His mind told him that there should be something to be done to occupy his time, but at the same time, he couldn't think of anything. Before, on the rare occasions when he had had nothing else to do, he had always spent his time by going to visit Aya-chan. Now...

Now even that was denied to him. Aya-chan was still missing, and none of his efforts to find her had born fruit so far. That in and of itself could generate the feeling of restlessness he hated so much, but it was worse when he didn't have work, of whatever kind, to occupy his mind and distract him. Sometimes, when he regretted returning to Weiss when he should have been focusing on his sister, he reminded himself that, if nothing else, Weiss provided him with things to keep him occupied. Focusing exclusively on his sister was pointless since he still didn't have a clue where to find her. He had no leads, and without them, almost everything he did to try and find her would prove to be a waste of time.

Aya let out a sigh of frustration as he swept his gaze over the flower shop he had just finished closing up. Everything was scrupulously clean and neat, a testament to his pent up energy and need for distraction. There was nothing left to do. Nothing to do but think, and that was the last thing he wanted to do just then. Thinking would mean thinking of Aya-chan, and thinking of her was especially painful at the moment.

Resisting the urge to scream in a childish release of frustration, Aya turned on his heel and nearly stomped towards the back of the shop. He had to find something to do, or he felt that he would go crazy. Maybe reading would help. With that thought in mind, he headed back towards the living quarters for himself and his teammates, striding purposefully towards his destination, only to nearly run straight into Ken.

Aya jerked, startled to encounter another person when he'd expected everyone else to have either already gone upstairs or out about their own devices. He managed to stop just short of plowing into Ken and simply stared at his teammate for a moment, trying to rationalize his appearance. Ken, in contrast, didn't seem at all surprised to see him, and his firm stance coupled with the way he was watching Aya rather intently told Aya that Ken had probably been waiting for him. But why on earth would he do that?

Getting over his surprise at encountering another teammate, Aya demanded, "What do you want?"

Ken shrugged. "I was waiting for you to finish closing up."

Aya, who had already figured that part out, said, "Why?"

Another shrug. "Just wanted to talk to you."

"About what?"

"I don't know," Ken said, making a vague gesture. "Anything really. I was going to let you pick the topic."

Aya raised an eyebrow at that. He wasn't exactly known among his teammates, or anyone else, for that matter, for his great conversation skills, and the idea of Ken wanting him to start a conversation was a little ridiculous.

"In that case," he said, "there is no topic, and this conversation is closed."

"Just like that, huh?" Ken said, looking rather irritated with the answer given.

"What did you expect?" Aya asked sarcastically. "If you want to talk to me so badly, then talk, but don't expect me to." With that, he brushed past Ken, preparing to head upstairs.

Ken, however, refused to be put off so easily. "Hey, I was just trying to be friendly and give you a chance to say something," he said, trailing after Aya. "You must have stuff you want to say. Or is it just that you don't want to talk to me?"

Aya paused, hearing a note of challenge in Ken's voice in the last question. It was almost as if Ken were waiting for him to say that yes, it was simply Ken that he didn't want to talk to. Instead, Aya evaded the question by saying, "What makes you think I want to talk at all?"

Ken just gave him a look that seemed to say, "Oh, come on, how stupid do you think I am?"

Aya turned to face him fully, raising one eyebrow slightly. "Well?" he demanded, staring expectantly at Ken.

For a moment, Ken simply stared back, meeting his eyes without any signs of intimidation. Finally, however, he sighed and looked away. Then, much to Aya's surprise, he reached out and grabbed Aya's arm, tugging Aya to follow him as he turned around and started walking. "C'mere," he said, as though Aya had a choice in the matter. "I want to show you something."

Aya was startled, but followed calmly enough on Ken's heels as his teammate led him to the kitchen. There, Ken finally released his arm in favor of rummaging through the cupboards looking for something. Aya was now even more confused. What was in the kitchen that Ken could possibly want to show him? Nevertheless, he waited silently for Ken to find whatever it was he was looking for and explain.

Ken, who was crawling on his hands and knees by this time to look in the lower cabinets, made a triumphant noise and stood up. Turning to face Aya, he held out one hand, proffering a fairly large brown object. Aya looked down at the item in confusion. Why on earth was Ken showing him a potato?

"You know what this is, right?" Ken said, shoving the potato a little closer to Aya's face.

"Of course," Aya answered scornfully, brushing Ken's hand aside. Now Ken was acting like he was the idiot. While potatoes hardly constituted a normal part of his diet, Aya certainly knew what they were.

"Good," Ken said. He then moved over to the microwave and, setting the potato in it, punched the appropriate buttons telling it to cook for several minutes. Then he gestured Aya over to stand next to him. "Watch this," he said.

"Ken," Aya said dubiously, "you do know that it's bad for you to stare at a microwave for too long, right?"

"Once isn't going to kill you," Ken answered, sounding petulant. "Just watch already."

Aya couldn't see what on earth Ken was trying to do with all this, but he knew the brunet was nothing if not stubborn, so he resigned himself to watching the hapless tuber cook in the microwave for the next several minutes. Ken, he noted, alternated between staring at the potato and casting sideways glances at him. Probably to make sure he was still watching, he reasoned. Though why Ken should care and what the point of all this was was beyond him.

Gradually, as he watched, he became aware of a faint hissing sound emanating from inside the microwave. He furrowed his brow, trying to discern the cause of the sound, when it abruptly ended with a dull pop. Aya jumped a little at the unexpected noise, but it was immediately apparent what had caused it. Inside the microwave, the potato skin split, and the white innards went flying, spattering against the microwave door and presumably the other walls as well.

Ken pressed the stop button on the microwave. "There," he said. "See?"

Aya wasn't sure what he was supposed to be seeing other than the obvious. "You've made a mess," he commented dryly. "I hope you're prepared to clean it up."

Ken looked exasperated. "You don't get it, do you?"

"What exactly am I supposed to get?" Aya asked.

"It exploded," Ken said, stating the obvious.

"Yes, I can see that. Some particular reason why you wanted me to watch you wasting food in this manner?"

"Do you know why it exploded?" Ken pressed.

Aya sighed in annoyance, but answered the question none the less. "You didn't poke any holes in it before you started cooking it," he said.

"Exactly," Ken said. "No holes. No outlets. So instead of venting properly, once it started heating up, all the steam stayed trapped inside until it couldn't take any more and it just exploded."

"And you wanted me to watch this because..."

"Don't you ever feel like a potato, Aya?" Ken asked.

Aya stared at him. What the hell kind of a question was that? "No, I can't say that I do," he answered curtly.

"But you are, kind of," Ken said. "You're a lot like this one, in fact." He opened the door of the microwave, displaying the mess within. "You never let anything out, you never vent. You never talk to anyone."

While Aya still didn't think of himself as being anything like a potato, he had to admit that Ken was right on that last point. He didn't really talk to anyone about what he was thinking, not anymore. Before, he had confided in Aya-chan; even though he knew that she was unable to answer back, he was certain she could hear him. Now, however, Aya-chan was gone.

"I know things haven't been going well for you lately," Ken said, studying his face gravely. "I know you're worried about your sister." Aya stiffened at the mention of her, but didn't respond, and so Ken went on, "You can't keep everything inside, you know. Sooner or later, you'll need to vent, or else you're going to explode too."

Aya didn't confirm what Ken was saying, but neither did he deny it. He stared hard at the mess in the microwave and didn't answer.

Ken sighed heavily. "Look, you don't have to confide in me, although it'd be great if you did. But for heaven's sake, talk to someone! If you think I'm too stupid to be bothered with, then go to Omi, go to Youji, hell, go to Manx!"

"Manx?" Aya questioned, raising an eyebrow. That woman was one of the last people he'd want to spill his secrets to. She knew too damn many of them as it was.

"Whoever," Ken said. "Just give yourself an outlet of some kind. I'm worried about you, okay? Ever since you came back and rejoined us, you've been even more silent and grumpy that usual."

Aya snorted. "Do you normally show people you're worried about them by making them watch exploding potatoes?"

Ken scowled at him fiercely. "Damn it, I'm trying to make a point here! So don't go trying to make fun of me for it, you prick!"

"Consider your point made," Aya said coldly. "I hope you think making it is worth giving the microwave a thorough cleaning, because that's what you'll be doing now. You made the mess, so you get to pick it up."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it already," Ken muttered sourly. "Let's just hope I don't end up having to pick you up," he added under his breath.

Aya heard the comment, but since he had no appropriate answer for it, he decided to ignore it. He turned to leave the kitchen, but was stopped by Ken's voice.

"Aya."

He turned partially to look back at Ken, who was still standing by the microwave.

"You know that if you change your mind, you can always come talk to me, right?" Ken said. "Just come and knock on my door or whatever."

Aya just gave him a cool stare before he turned his back on Ken and left the kitchen.

/-/-/-/

By dinnertime that night, Ken had finished cleaning the microwave, and that should have been the end of the incident. Yet Aya couldn't seem to forget about the whole thing as he ought to have done. That night he lay awake in his room thinking about the whole thing, long after he should have gone to sleep. Ken's demonstration had been crude, but the imagery was vivid enough that it stuck in his mind. And yet it was absurd. He wasn't going to physically explode just because he didn't talk to anyone. The image of the potato, its insides spattered every which way, came to his mind again, and he brushed it aside impatiently. Ken was being stupid; he was nothing like a potato.

And yet, Ken's offer still stuck in his mind. He had to admit, it was nice knowing that he had that avenue open to him, in the unlikely event that he should ever want to use it. But really, Ken need not have gone through all that fuss just to extend the invitation. What was the point of making a mess for no reason when you would just have to clean it up later?

"Let's just hope I don't end up having to pick you up."

Ken's words rang through his head again, and Aya sighed heavily. Ken seemed to think that he would go all to pieces if he wasn't careful. And yet it had happened before. He remembered that horrible night, the night his parents had died. He'd gone to pieces then. He remembered himself as he had been, a frightened boy curled up in a corner, desperately waiting for some word of hope, some sign that he could wake up from the nightmare his life had become. But instead of bringing him hope, the doctors had only brought him more bad news. And he had been forced to pull himself together because there was no other alternative, because Aya-chan needed him.

Aya-chan still needed him, but he was as useless to her now as he had been then. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to find her. That thought rankled, and Aya found himself letting out a low growl of anger and self-contempt almost without realizing it. He wanted to punch the pillow into oblivion. He wanted to scream and scream his frustration to the world until he was hoarse. He wanted to...

Abruptly, Aya rolled out of bed and put on a pair of slippers. He was still in his pajamas, but he didn't let that deter him as he slipped out into the hall and over to Ken's room. For a few minutes he hesitated outside, suddenly wondering if this was a good idea. He didn't really need to talk to anyone, after all, and it was late. Ken had probably already gone to sleep, and would be justly annoyed at being woken. And yet...

"You can always come talk to me. Just come and knock on my door or whatever."

Hesitantly, Aya raised his hand and knocked.

Owari