Kitty-chan

Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Weiß Kreuz
Characters: Yohji x Aya
Date Completed:  3/25/03
Archive:  Nekojita.  Anyone else, please ask.

Yohji was on the corner across the street when he heard the low, annoyed shout of "Buy something or LEAVE!" echo out from inside the flower shop. It must have been a particularly rough afternoon in the shop, he mused, because he barely made it across the street before the first shout was followed by a second, louder bellow of, "Enough! We are now closed!" Then he couldn't make it any closer to the store as a flood of shrieking and giggling schoolgirls poured out the shop door in a wave. The girls broke up into smaller groups; some were laughing, thinking it all a big joke, as usual, but some actually looked over their shoulders, frowning, and a few sensitive souls were actually crying as they scuttled down the sidewalk.

It was a pack of the hardier souls, of course, that spotted him.

"Ano, Yohji-san! Aya-san's so mean today! Is that because he still doesn't have a girlfriend?"

"There you are Yohji-san! What do you think of my dress?"

He was besieged for a moment by chattering schoolgirls all bombarding him with similar questions and demands for attention. His shopping bag crinkled loudly as they pressed close and he lifted it out of harm's way, smiling around at the girls patiently before he began to work his way skillfully through the press by passing out outrageous compliments freely, touching outstretched hands and soothing bruised egos with simulated pouts of commiseration until he was nearly inside the door of the Koneko.

"Forgive me, girls, but I have a date to get ready for tonight," he announced with a charming smile before turning to find the night shutter already in motion. He stopped the sharp downward drop of the heavy shutter with both hands, the plastic bag that dangled from one wrist rustling loudly. His display of quick reflexes earned him a snarl of fury from the red-headed man inside the shop who was trying to close it. Violet eyes flashed at him angrily.

"Working alone again, are you?" Yohji asked with a quirk of his lips. Aya just fixed him with a fierce glare before abandoning the rolling door to his hands, then the other man spun away into the depths of the darkened shop.

Yohji ducked under the shutter and stepped inside, letting the smile widen on his lips as he ignored the disappointed wash of chatter from the girls still hovering outside. He let the heavy shutter slide closed immediately behind him. Only an hour before their posted closing time today. Aya had lasted longer than usual. His mission had taken much longer to complete than he had expected and it was pretty obvious that Ken had abandoned the shop for the soccer field again rather than return from deliveries. Slack. They were getting slack. Yohji wouldn't want to be in the jock's shoes when he finally showed up again, that was for sure. One of the braver girls outside pounded on the closed metal shutter behind him, making him jump slightly and breaking into his musings. Girls these days were getting pushier all the time, he thought ruefully. Not that it mattered much to him... Yohji just shrugged as he flipped the heavy latch on the shutter into place, locking it down tight.

One thing he liked so much about the night shutter was that it wasn't one of those open grates. It was made of flexible metal plates, hinged together, and it covered the front of the shop completely. In other words, no one could see through it into the interior of the shop once it was closed. Once that had been more important than it was today – but for very different reasons.

After a quick glance around, he found Aya standing over by the back bench where arrangements were assembled. The main lights were already off, and, with the shutter closed on the late-afternoon sun, only the bluish glow of the fluorescent lights inside the two narrow coolers on the far wall illuminated the shop, their glow broken up into eerie patterns by the floral displays within. It made it seem as if the shop were almost another world; a silent and private haven in the middle of Tokyo.

"Hn," Aya snorted as Yohji walked slowly across the shop toward him. "Don't you feel like a pervert talking to them that way?"

"Why?"

"You are thirty." Aya glared at him, arms folded across his chest.

"Ouch, did you have to remind me?" Yohji winced, the remnants of his smile still dancing around his mouth as he stepped closer to the other man. Well into his personal space. Yohji reached beyond the other man briefly to set the big shopping bag down on the bench beside them, but Aya didn't move away and even tipped his head back to keep his glare fixed on Yohji's eyes.

"Ojiisan," Aya said at last, softly breaking the silence, the barest hint of a smile teasing at one corner of his mouth. Yohji reached out then and ran his thumb across that slightly full lower lip, his own smile warming and his eyes crinkling as Aya leaned into his touch.

"The sexiest ojiisan around, ne?" he responded huskily, heart giving a little lurch as it always did in the other man's presence.

In this light, you almost couldn't see the burn scars that puckered the lower right side of Aya's face and neck. The worst of them, of course, were hidden by the high-collared and long-sleeved shirts he habitually wore. He'd recovered amazingly well, considering how badly he'd been burned. Daily, Yohji thanked numerous gods from all over the world – as well as the incredible doctors that Omi had arranged for during treatment – for the fact that Aya was still alive, and able to get around again with almost all his old grace, save for a slight limp in the right leg. He'd even started practicing his katas again. Something that Yohji wasn't quite as grateful for, since it got the man out of bed far too early in the morning by his way of thinking. But any day that included Aya in his bed at all was a hell of a good day, as far as Kudoh Yohji was concerned. He'd take whatever he could get – and was damned grateful for it. Even if a corner of his heart didn't wonder if there could be more, somehow.

"Hn," Aya said in lieu of answering the teasing statement, letting his eyes close and his face turn fully into Yohji's hand. Yohji cupped the scarred cheek gently, thumb rubbing lightly over the soft skin at the corner of his mouth.

"How long ago did Ken ditch on you?"

"Two hours." Aya humphed in annoyance, eyebrows flickering downward briefly but not lingering in a frown. He seemed almost drowsy now. Relaxed. Content. Yohji's heart fluttered, his gaze softening as he looked at the trustingly closed eyes. His fingers slid back into the silky strands of long hair drawn back into a tail low on the other man's neck. Aya rubbed against him gently, cat-like and encouraging. So he took a step closer, sliding his arms around the other man and pulling him close, unable to resist any longer. It had been so hard, during the long burn therapy, to keep his hands off the other man. But his patience had been amply rewarded when Aya finally healed. Aya relaxed against him, tucking his forehead under Yohji's ear with a little twist like he always did, his arms sliding around Yohji's waist with easy familiarity.

"You lasted that long alone with the Fan Club? C'h, I'm impressed."

"Aya-chan was here for an hour and a half," Aya admitted with a small sigh, the breath ghosting across Yohji's throat like a warm caress.

Yohji chuckled, resting his cheek against Aya's hair. "Well I hope you made her sit behind the register the whole time! She was probably just running interference for Ken, since I doubt she wants you to kill her husband before the baby's born."

Aya just growled softly in his throat for daring to insinuate that he would take less than perfect care of his beloved sister, head tilting back and eyelids flickering open slightly to fix him with a brief, baleful glare before sliding them closed again and tucking his head back under Yohji's ear. It both confused and amused Yohji to no end that Aya had accepted the fact that his sister had actually been living with Ken before they finally married with more grace than he'd accepted her recent pregnancy. The idea of his baby sister having a baby herself still didn't sit well with the other man for some reason. He had been snappish and irritable for months now, almost a throwback to the old days. Which was why the shopping for his sister's baby shower had been put off until today, the very day before. And it was also why Yohji had finally volunteered to take care of it. Hence, his 'mission'.

"Did you get something?" Aya asked suddenly, drawing away enough to stare at him intently, expression boding dire things if he didn't come through.

With a sigh of regret, Yohji let him go. Then remembered that Aya had closed the shop early. A wicked, anticipatory grin flashed across his face. Aya's stare narrowed warningly as he recognized the look. Yohji hastily forced a look of wounded innocence onto this face in its place, batting his eyes and splaying his hand over his heart. It almost hurt, as he desperately fought back the smile that wanted to break through, but it was worth it for the slight roll of Aya's eyes and the tiny smile that it provoked from the other man before he remembered to glare again.

"Yes, of course I got something! I'm hurt that you thought I would fail this important mission, Ayan, truly I am," he said with a sniff. "It's in the bag..." Aya turned and snatched the plain white plastic bag off the bench, digging furiously around in the vast wads of pastel-colored tissue paper that the shop-girl had felt necessary to stuff into the bag as well.

"It's the right kind, whatever it is, ne?" Aya frowned as he tossed tissue all over the floor. "Something suitable for an infant?"

"Of course! Like I'd get my oichan anything dangerous!" Yohji said, a grin teasing at his lips as Aya reached the bottom of the bag and the tissue-throwing came to an abrupt halt as the other man stared wide-eyed and faintly twitching into the shopping bag. "It's the perfect baby shower gift, I promise you! The full layette set comes with blankets and sleepers and all sorts of soft fuzzy things suitable for a newborn baby. Aya-chan will love it."

Aya's head swiveled around and he fixed Yohji with a bemused stare. "It's pink."

"And white and yellow and green..." Yohji added helpfully, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Maa maa, he hadn't seen Aya so disconcerted in a long time. This was more than worth the utter humiliation he had endured when he actually entering the frilly little store downtown to buy the thing. He'd insisted on a plain white bag, of course. No sense destroying his reputation any more than it already had been simply by stepping through that shop door...

Aya blinked, then frowned into the bag, then blinked again. "What is it?"

"What is it?" Yohji repeated, indignant, then snatched the bag out of Aya's hands. He reached inside and pulled out a soft clear-plastic case that was filled with neatly folded fabrics of various sizes, weights and colors. Well, that was if one actually considered pastels to be suitable colors for anything other than flowers. But what had stumped Aya, apparently, was the big-headed anthropomorphic white cat plushie dressed in a pink pinafore with a matching pink bow below it's left ear that adorned the top of the layette case. Yohji smiled at the cat as he carefully placed the set on the workbench.

"This is Kitty-chan, of course!" Yohji said, grinning over his shoulder at Aya. Aya just continued to stare at him, eyes narrowed in confusion; it was obviously far outside his experience.

"...Kitty-chan," Aya repeated dubiously, frowning slightly now as he examined the creature.

"Yes, Kitty-chan," Yohji repeated, then 'tsk'ed and shook his head in mock dismay. "Women love this kind of shit, Aya, don't you know? C'h, it's a damn good thing you hooked up with me now then isn't it?"

The violet eyes narrowed at him in a brief glare, but soon tracked back to the white cat, blinking at it in confusion. "Why?"

Yohji shrugged, but ran a long finger slowly down the stuffed cat's admittedly sweet expression. At least it didn't have a hugely sappy fake smile plastered all across it's face. Kitty-chan was a fairly serious and steady girl, he saw. A calm, yet cheering companion for his little oichan-to-be to drool all over once he was born. He approved.

"Hell if I know," Yohji admitted, shrugging again. "But trust me, Aya-chan will go all teary-eyed over it, then shriek 'kawaii' and glomp you until you can't breathe."

"She shouldn't be overly excited now," Aya said sharply, looking suddenly worried. "It's not good for her health." Yohji turned abruptly away from the gift and wrapped his arms around the other man again. If Aya was worrying about his sister getting too excited over a gift, then he didn't have the heart to tell him about the rather enthusiastic display of marital bliss that he had walked in on between the very pregnant Aya-chan and her attentive husband Ken in the greenhouse just last week then. Hell, he'd had no idea a pregnant woman could look so damn sexy... or be so flexible. Then he blanched when he remembered that it was his lover's little sister he was picturing so, er, fondly... but that just meant good genetic inheritance then, eh? Shaking those unworthy thoughts away, Yohji drew Aya tightly against him, burying a hand deep into the man's tied-back hair.

Aya didn't push away, but neither did he relax against him as he'd done before.

"She's healthy as a horse," Yohji said, attemping to be reassuring, before tugging the tie loose and freeing Aya's shoulder-length hair to fan it carelessly across his back. "Don't worry about her, Ken'll make sure she's resting. And I went out and got the gift for tomorrow, so you can stop worrying about that too. She'll love it." He pressed a kiss to Aya's temple, his hand stroking soothingly through the other man's hair. Slowly, Aya sagged against him, arms finally closing around him in return.

"I don't know what to do, Yohji," Aya breathed suddenly into his neck, his voice low with anguish. "I don't know... She's going to be a mother. What do I say to her now?"

Yohji blinked in surprise for a moment, taken aback by the abject tone in Aya's voice. He tried to sound light-hearted and carefree in his response, hoping to jog Aya out of what appeared to be an impending brood.

"Well, she already knows you were an assassin. She already knows you borrowed her name. She already knows you're shacking up with me. And she already knows you love her and only want her to be happy – even if it has to be with Ken," Yohji said, giving a small shudder before sighing dramatically. "I suppose you can finally tell her you're a florist if you must..."

"Yohji..." Aya said warningly, tensing against him again. But not pulling away. Yet.

"This is what you wanted, Aya, right?" he said quietly, tightening his hold and sobering completely, painfully conscious of the subtle unhappiness of the man in his arms. "For her to be able to live her own life. Well, this is it. This is her life."

"She never should have learned all those things. She never should have gotten involved in our work."

Yohji snorted, his hand stroking soothingly down the lean, tense back. "I don’t think you could drag her away from Ken – or from you – with a crane. She's tough and loyal and smart and beautiful... just like her brother."

Aya pulled back, the violet eyes shadowed with the old guilty pain once more. "But she didn't have to become like me... she killed because of me, Yohji."

Yohji tried to stifle the old regrets that flared up in him too. The guilt. For not being fast enough. For being nearly fatally distracted when Aya went down. For not being in the right place at the right time to keep Aya-chan from having to pull that trigger... But it had saved Aya's life amid the fire and the blood and the chaos. And nobody messed with a Fujimiya and survived – either one of them. They were both steel, brother and sister alike, and he would always treasure Aya-chan for that. For saving the man he loved.

"She killed to protect you because she loves you," Yohji corrected him firmly. "And she was already in love with Ken and now – god help us – they're breeding and there's going to be another little Ken running around here in a few months."

Aya just stared at him, his gaze still hollow. What was it about babies that made people so introspective, Yohji wondered. Was it simply the reminder of one's own mortality in the passing of the generations? Or the doubt over what kind of legacy one would leave behind for the next one? A little of both, probably.

He was thirty years old now, for god's sake; Aya was twenty-eight. Aya-chan was going to be a mother, and Ken a father. Omi ran a good portion of the Tokyo Police if not the Japanese government by now and Weiß hadn't had to personally kill anyone in nearly three years. They really were florists now – and only occasionally information gatherers. Life was as normal as it would ever get for them.

So it was time they lived it that way. And it had taken a Kitty-chan doll and a looming baby shower to remind him of how important that was. Just to live. And to love. He loved Fujimiya Ran more than anything else in the world. Hell, he must, because he'd given up smoking for the stubborn bastard, hadn't he?

"Ran," he said, using Aya's real name for the first time in a long while. Leaned close as he touched the scarred cheek again, drawing the violet gaze to his. Stared into those beautiful eyes and remembered how close he'd come to losing sight of them forever. Remembered how much he owed Aya-chan. "Ran, I love you."

Then he kissed him. Mouth gentle, lips barely parted. A tender kiss, filled with all the need and longing and emotion he could muster. Kissed him until Aya's arms closed tightly around him in return, until Aya's body was flush against his, until their breath and pulse were as one.

They pulled apart only to breathe, eyes opening slowly to first glimpse each other's dazed eyes. Yohji cupped Aya's face, fingers threading back soothingly into his hair.

"God, I love you," Yohji breathed, watching first uncertainty and then denial flicker deep in violet eyes. Felt a flare of ruefully amused anger at the sight. "Stubborn. Why else would I put up with your shit for all these years, ne? Sure you're sexy as hell, but you're also a moody pain in the ass and I can't imagine my life without you in it! Ran." He put both hands on Aya's face, thumbs stroking across the faintly swollen mouth to keep him from interrupting. "Let her grow up in your heart. Let go of the past and let her be what she is; beautiful and tough and a survivor... just like we are. Because it's time for us to live now too, love. We've earned it."

There was something stirring in those violet depths. Something wild and terrible. Pain. Fear. Longing. He felt Aya clutch at his shoulders, fingers digging in hard. Desperate.

"Nobody says it ..." Aya's voice was barely a whisper. A little boy's cry. And Yohji almost wanted to cry too. For being so stubborn for so long. Or so macho. Or so... whatever. What did pride matter here? This was important...

"And I'm an idiot for that," Yohji grimaced, then he smiled again. Tenderly. Kissed him again. Softly. "I love you, Ran." Aya groaned and drew him close, hugging him tight, his body shuddering.

And he knew he'd say the words as many times as Aya needed to hear them. Until he finally began to believe them.

Yohji looked over the trembling red head buried against his chest into the somber, yet hopeful face of Kitty-chan for a long moment before closing his eyes and hugging Aya tighter.

As long as it took...

- - fin - -

Fangirl Japanese Glossary:

C'h = expression of disgust, annoyance
katas = forms, styles – Aya's doing sword practice again
Maa, maa = My, my
Oichan = nephew (with cutesy implications) pretty much anything-chan is cutesy
Ojiisan = grandfather