Girl
by Maya Tawi and Viridian5

part five

Aya woke slowly, feeling oddly content, his body well-worn and complacent. It felt like he was recovering from a particularly punishing workout. But he hadnít been training the day before....

He stretched and rolled over, and was rewarded with twinges in places that definitely didnít come from training.

Oh.

Aya buried his face in his pillow and bit his lip, holding back the silly little smile that threatened to appear. So that was it; heíd had sex. Twice, if he counted Yohji, and--

Yohji. Ayaís smile faded.

He still didnít know what the fight with Omi had been about; Yohji hadnít exactly been lucid, certainly not enough to explain himself. But he had the uncomfortable feeling that he wouldnít like it when he found out.

Aya sighed and sat up, hiding another smile. So there were problems with Yohji. Heíd work them out. Yukio had given him some good advice before sheíd fucked him.

He slid out of bed, thinking with amusement that in sex, as in many other, less pleasant things, it never quite rained but it poured.

Yohji was still passed out, curled up in his bunk with his pillow clutched over his head in a death grip. Aya felt a twinge of sympathy. The memory of his own hellish hangover wasnít too far distant.

The others were already gone. Aya padded silently to the bathroom, taking care not to wake his sleeping teammate, reflecting that not too long ago he would have forcibly kicked Yohji out of bed, hangover be damned. Maybe he really was growing as a person. But if he wasnít quite Aya and he couldnít be Ran, then where did that leave him?

He dismissed the thought as he looked at the phone number scrawled in blue along his arm. He had a new friend, one who didnít know him as either Aya or Ran, one who placed precious few demands on him. And heíd had sex. Twice.

He walked back out to get a piece of paper to write the number down on to save it, then went back into the bathroom, stripped, and stepped into the shower. The water washed only the surface remnants of last night from his body. The internal touches lasted.

At least for today, the rest could work itself out. Today he couldnít be bothered.


"Iíll be working outside with you today, Ken, since Yohjiís unconscious and far too drunk to be useful," Aya said. "What story did you give out about me?" He didnít look forward to facing the schoolgirls.

Ken looked uncomfortable. "That you were on a much-needed vacation."

ĎMuch-neededí? Aya could imagine what the others had said to the customers that Ken wasnít telling him. "If anyone asks, he needed more time than he expected, and Iím a cousin who decided to fill in for him. That way the resemblance and the same name wonít be so odd." Not that his actual family had been any use when heíd needed them most desperately.

"Why would Cousin Aya do this?"

Aya nearly smiled. "For three attractive young men who need help. What girl could resist? At least if I can judge by our clientele." When Kenís uncomfortable look took on a deeper shade of discomfort, Aya asked, "What?"

"Nothing."

"Iíll get it out of you sooner or later."

"Uh."

Aya turned on his death glare. "Donít make me wonder. Whatever I imagine will be far worse than the truth."

"Yohji told us about... you and him last night."

Oh. Heíd been wrong. "Iíll kill him." Yohji talking about what theyíd done as if Aya had been another bimbo he could notch on his bedpost.... Now he understood the odd looks Ken and Omi had been giving him.

"He didnít mean to, Iím sure. He was really drunk!"

And Omi.... "That fight with Omi happened after Yohji told the both of you, didnít it?"

"Yeah."

Omi must be devastated. Aya would have to have a talk with him when he returned from school. Damn.

Aya hated talking. But it had to be done. After all the people and forces that had tried to destroy them, it would be stupid if WeiŖ fell to pieces because Aya had grown breasts and a sex drive.

"He just let us know that youíd had sex. He didnít go into detail."

"All right, I will."

Ken almost turned green. "You really donít have to."

"Oh no, I want to. Last night I turned back into a man."

"Thatís great!"

"Right after Yohji made me come. He freaked out."

Ken had a familiar Ďthis is not my lifeí look on his face. "Thatís... not good."

"I stormed away, while he apparently got drunk. So heís not such a stud after all."

"I could have done without knowing all of this.... But now youíre a woman again. What happened?" He sounded concerned.

"I donít know." And then he was picked up by lesbian bikers, but Ken didnít need to know that part.

"You might change again."

"I hope. In the meantime, Iím going to eat breakfast and then go out there as my own cousin."

"This should be fun."

"Iím sure."


The schoolgirls didnít react quite as he expected. They hated him. Hated him. His skin should have burned off from the heat and intensity of their angry, jealous stares. It amused and annoyed him simultaneously. Neither emotion boded well for Yohji, as Ayaís mood set him to thinking of vengeance all morning.

On his break, Aya walked into the kitchen, picked up a pot and metal spoon, and went back to check on Yohji. Yohji looked deeply unconscious as he sprawled in his bunk. That wouldnít last.

Aya banged the spoon repeatedly on the pot, smiling at the unholy racket and Yohjiís vertical jump and near tumble off the bunk.

Yohji groaned and writhed, then looked up at Aya bleary-eyed and shouted, "What the hell was that for?" He winced at the sound of his own voice. Softer, he said, "I think I remember you saying that you understood. That happened, right?"

"Yes, but that was before I found out that you bragged about our encounter to Ken and Omi, as if I were another bimbo in your string of conquests. You bragged about it to Omi, you asshole."

"He goaded me into it!"

"Really?" Aya moved the spoon closer to the pot.

"You cruel bastard," Yohji moaned.

"Do you have any idea what kind of looks I was getting from them? Iím going to have to talk to Omi."

"Oh, the torture. No, donít bang anything again!"

"Iím telling them how it ended. I already told Ken. Since you already dragged me into the muck, Iím taking you down with me."

"Sounds like fun. Donít hit the pot!"

Aya felt tired suddenly. "Why did you even say anything about it? Iíd imagine youíd want last night to stay a secret for your own reasons. Did Omi Ďgoadingí you put your mouth on autopilot and make it slip out?"

Yohji looked truly piteous. "Aya, Iím hungover. Iím not at my best."

Aya refused to relent, especially since Yohji had done this to himself in an effort to drown his horror in alcohol. "Oh. You want me to come back after youíve rehearsed your answer."

"Look, Iím sorry. I know I made some bad judgment calls."

Of which sex with Aya had been one. "Yeah." Bad judgment calls had been going around.

He knew better now. Heíd been right before. Talking and getting involved led to trouble. Once he straightened things out with Omi as much as possible, heíd keep his mouth shut, his body under control, and his problems to himself, working them out on his own. They could think what they liked of him, call him a cold asshole, whatever. At least heíd been a cold asshole whoíd possessed some dignity before.

"You slept the morning away," Aya said. "Itís time to get out there and actually do your job."

"Aya, itís not so bad. Everythingís going to be fine."

"Sure, Yohji."


Yohji didnít understand what had happened. One moment Aya had been annoying but human, and then heíd gone cold again. Good going, Kudou.

He needed something to distract the ice away. Then he remembered everything with Schuldig last night, which might not have been the distraction material he wanted but made him sober right up. "When Omi gets home, we have to call a meeting."

"If itís something important, you should tell me and Ken now."

"Schuldig knows where weíre living."

Aya didnít look surprised. When he noticed Yohjiís expression of incredulity, he said, "Heís a telepath. Besides, he was able to find me easily."

Shit. "He said he can easily locate people he knows well."

That soured Ayaís expression. "I see."

Something else. Something about abilities.... "Itís gone. Fuck!"

"What?"

"Schuldig told me what you might be doing, but he must have taken it out of my head. I know I heard it, but I canít remember a thing about it. That bastard!"

"Iím not surprised."

When Aya almost started to smile, Yohji asked, "What?"

"It sounds like a long conversation."

"While he was with me, he couldnít be stalking you."

"Thank you. But, Yohji, it sounds like he might be fixating on you too."

"Hell, yeah, he might--" Oh, no.

"I donít think itís safe for you to go out anywhere alone or alone with me. Itís not that you need a chaperone, but he is dangerous. Itís something that would have to be done for any of us who caught his perverted interest. We better let Ken and Omi know."

"Youíre enjoying this."

"Maybe." At least that malice had put a light in his eyes, melting the ice. "Did he make overtures to you too?"

Yohji remembered being pressed hard against the bar and the feel of Schuldigís lips.... "No!"

"Yes. I feel a little less special now." But obviously very amused. Aya frowned. "I hope you didnít drive home that drunk."

"No, I took a cab." A cab Schuldig had called and paid for, but Yohji had no intentions of admitting that.

"My katana is still in the car."

"Soís your bra."

Aya glared. Yohji grinned.

"Anyone could have broken into the car--"

"You didnít remember it until just now. Must have been some night." Idiot! "Uhm."

But was that a blush? "We have to go get it. My katana and your car."

"Alone?" He knew he shouldnít needle Aya, but it was so much fun.

"Ken has to stay with the shop. How much trouble could we possibly-- All right, Iím not even going to finish that."


Being in an enclosed space with Aya was torture. While theyíd been arguing and talking earlier, Yohji could just pretend that nothing had changed, but while sitting together this closely in Ayaís car he kept remembering the last time theyíd been in a car together, the way Aya had tasted and moaned and writhed, and that heíd made Aya come. At which point Aya had turned into a man again and everything had gone to hell, but before that Yohji had been very happy with the turn of events.

He felt possessive in a way Aya would want to kick his ass for if he knew.

He smiled at the chipped dark red polish he saw on Ayaís nails as those graceful hands rested on the steering wheel. Ayaís bare neck and wrists drew his attention and begged him for kisses, and he was usually too gentlemanly to deny such lovely body parts what they wanted. She had a bit of a glow about her today that he knew heíd contributed to, and a large part of him wanted to do it again. Several times. Aya was a beautiful, responsive woman.

Except when he was a pissed off man.

Yohji wanted her badly but would he be able to deal with him? She may have been a responsive beauty who was supposedly ready to go at any time, but he was a prickly, moody, cold asshole most of the time, though heíd been better lately. Yohji could just imagine the deep freeze heíd get if he got involved with Aya even casually, then dumped him. Did he want to bother?

Of course, all of that assumed that Aya would let him bother after last nightís events.

"If someone broke into your car, Iím going to be very angry," Aya said.

"Youíll be angry?"

"Cars can be replaced."

"Your ignorance is just too much for me to deal with. Iím not even going to try."

"Itís a moot point, since it seems that no one molested the car overnight." Aya paused. "Whatever youíre about to say, donít say it."

"But you make such a great straight man. Wait, that didnít come out right."

Aya parked his car near Yohjiís. "If you only knew...."

"What? Whatís that supposed to mean?"

Aya just said nothing and got out of the car. Sadistic bastard.

Aya retrieved his katana from the car so skillfully that no passers-by would have realized that heíd picked up a weapon that long and blatantly intimidating. He was in the car, and then the katana was under his long coat. Yohji far preferred the wire hidden in his watch specifically for the way he could stealthily carry it anywhere. Aya also hid his bra somewhere in the coat, while Yohji tried and failed to keep a straight face.

Aya cast him a frosty look, then went back to his car and drove away with more emphasis than he needed to. Yohji smirked and murmured, "Iím so misunderstood." But at least driving home alone removed the possibility of temptation.


After Omi came home and the shop was closed up for the night, Omi called Manx so she too could hear his news about Schuldig. Aya didnít see the point in getting upset, since heíd already resigned himself to the idea that if the telepath wanted to know where he was, he would. Omi, Ken, and Manx didnít take it as well.

"You waited this long to tell us?" Ken asked Yohji.

"I wasnít conscious for most of the day."

Omi shook his head. "Weíll have to move again." Via video connection, Manx concurred.

Of course. Aya should have known that they wouldnít be able to stay in Tokyo again for long. After all, a major reason for not contacting Aya-chan had been that he never knew when theyíd have to leave in a hurry. Giving her the hope of having a brother who could be in her life full-time would have been cruel.

Of course, she had taken the matter out of his hands.

"Hey, Aya, whatís your problem?" Yohji asked.

"His sister," Omi said. "Remember?"

Aya felt annoyed with himself that heíd let his upset show. "Yes." Aya-chan... and Yukio. He had to let them know without giving too much away.

Then again, Yukio might not be a problem. He could have been a single nightís amusement to her. The phone number might not even be genuine. No promises had been exchanged on either side.

This was a ridiculous attachment to have anyway.

He would try the number later.

"Iíll get back to you on where you should set up now," Manx said. "It shouldnít be long. Youíll have to leave soon."

"Thanks, Manx," Omi answered.

As soon as the connection turned off, Aya put his leather jacket on and walked to the door. Omi said, "Aya, I understand about your sister, but you shouldnít be going out alone."

At least Omi hadnít told him he couldnít leave at all, not that Aya would have listened. "I was fine last night."

"Because I kept Schuldig distracted," Yohji said, no doubt to remind the team of his supposed heroism. Never mind that it seemed heíd been drinking with the enemy, hardly a difficult task, to do so.

"How long did you sacrifice yourself for, Yohji?" Ken asked, beaming with patently fake innocence.

"A long time."

"What kind of things did you have to do for him?"

"Hey!"

Aya didnít have the time for this. "Sheíll worry if I show up with an entourage."

"Sheíll worry anyway when you tell her we have to leave," ever so reasonable Omi replied.

That reasonability could drive Aya to homicide. Omiís ability to talk and wait him out didnít make him happier either. Surrendering to the inevitable, he said, "I wonít go alone, but I canít be paired with Yohji. Schuldigís fixated on him too."

"You donít have to smile so sweetly about that," Yohji muttered.

"I donít smile."

"That wasnít a sweet smile," Ken said. "That was a smug, wicked, evil smile."

"Youíre all insane."

"Iíll go along with you," Omi said.

Even better. Even considering all the bad nights heíd had in the past few years, especially lately, this night was heading to the top of the list. "Donít you have to be here for when Manx calls back?"

"Ken and Yohji can take it."

"All right." It would be a nice change to win some of the time.


Omi wondered if Aya intended to drive the whole way in silence. Better yet, worried silence, which made it feel even more awkward to Omi.

Aya didnít seem different than he had yesterday, before Yohji had gotten all the way. Omi felt that his perceptions of Aya should have taken a radical shift, but Aya just seemed like his female self.

"Are you going to stare at me the whole way there?" Aya asked.

"Are you going to keep quiet the whole way there?"

"I should--" Aya continued to stare out the front windshield. "Omi, I donít love you that way. I donít love anyone that way."

That was... direct, but Aya could be stunningly and even rudely direct at times. No opening pleasantries.

"Yohji--"

"Iím attracted to him, more so since Iíve changed. I donít love him." Aya took a deep breath. "I havenít felt anything like that kind of love in years. I donít know if I can anymore."

That was awful. Aya couldnít really think that. "Aya, the last few years have been hard on you. You were an assassin with a day job who also spent hours with his ill sister."

"The way youíre an assassin whoís a student and a florist too?"

"Thatís different."

"It always is."

"Youíd focused yourself completely on vengeance and didnít give yourself the time or space for love. Things are different now."

"Yes, and Iím a bit different too, but thatís no guarantee of anything."

"Youíre too hard on yourself. Youíll feel again."

"I donít want to use you as a test case on that."

Oh. Part of Omi screamed, ĎUse me!í but the rest of him knew that he would hate it if they became friends who had sex while Aya never grew to love him as he loved Aya and wanted to be loved himself. It would lead to resentment, self-doubt, and anger. The coldly practical part of him understood that very well and recognized that Aya refused him out of a different kind of love for him. But oh how it hurt.

Still, Omi had to ask, "What about Yohji?"

"He doesnít want love from me, just sex. Thereís liking on both sides... some of the time... but I donít think heíd know what to do with me if I did love him."

So Aya didnít love Yohji either; he just figured that he couldnít hurt Yohji through sex with him. That made things slightly better.

Thinking about how fundamentally lonely and isolated Aya must feel made it all worse again.

"Besides, last night was hardly the culmination of anyoneís fantasy," Aya said, his lips twisting slightly. "I changed back to my real self during it, and Yohji was... repulsed by it. No deep connection was formed."

Omi felt simultaneously glad that they hadnít made a love connection and deeply angry that Yohji had reacted that way to prevent it. "At what point did you change back?"

Aya actually colored a little. "You donít have to know."

"Iíll wonder anyway if you donít tell me."

Aya sighed. "After he went down on me and brought me to climax."

Omi liked to think that he wasnít a cruel or evil person, but the mental image of Yohji being there and congratulating himself on a job well done only to suddenly find a dick near his face made him want to cackle dementedly. Instead, Omi was an adult about it and simply asked, "So sex triggers the change?" But not a permanent change, obviously.

"Not always."

"Do you know where Aya-chan is right now?" Omi asked. When Ayaís eyes flickered and he sighed, Omi took out his cell phone. Aya really needed a keeper. And he didnít carry a cell phone because he didnít want people to be able to reach him when he walked off. After Momoe-san answered at Kitten in the House, Omi said, "Itís Omi. Is Aya there?"

"Is there trouble?" Momoe-san asked. Omi had always suspected that she knew far more about what WeiŖ did than she let on and that she was probably a Kritiker member herself.

"None aimed at her."

"I see. Yes, sheís here."

"Is Sakura there?"

Aya cocked an eyebrow at him.

"No, not now," she said.

"Thanks, Momoe-san. Weíll be over to see Aya soon."

"Oh, good. I miss you."

"íBye!" Omi put the phone away, grinning.

"Youíre very good," Aya said, Aya-smiling a little.

"Yep. You wouldnít have thought to ask." Omi shook his head. "You and Sakura...."

"She deserves better," Aya left his Ďyou deserve better than meí unspoken, though it hung between them, "but I canít make her understand that. She saw me kill, and that didnít put her off."

"So you think sheíd convert to lesbianism if she saw you now?"

"Iím glad I wonít have to take that chance."

Omi gave him a sidelong glance, and then asked, "ĎNot alwaysí?"

"Hmm?"

"Not always, you said. About sex being the trigger."

"Well." Aya was definitely coloring again. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Itís certainly not the only trigger."

"Thatís not what you said," Omi pointed out. "You said--"

"Iíd rather not discuss it," Aya interrupted. His face was bright red now, a rare enough occasion that Omi wanted to take a photograph. What if no one believed him?

"Youíre blushing," he marveled.

"No, Iím not."

"You are! You--"

Aya swerved to the side of the road with considerably less grace than usual. "Weíre here," he announced firmly.

Omi smiled to himself and waited.

In a low, steely voice, Aya said, "You will not tell the others." He didnít have to add, Ďor else.í The or else was implied, and probably very, very painful.

Not tell the others. Not tell Yohji, because Yohji didnít know.

Omi grinned. "Our secret!" he chirped.

Aya sighed, sounding long-suffering and put-upon.

For all that Omi was careful to think of Aya as Ďheí and Ďhim,í there was a she and her there too, ever more so as time in that body wore on, and he liked the woman Aya was. She talked more and took more risks than Aya did, and... she was nicer. Omi hoped that they didnít lose her altogether when Aya changed back.

Aya-chan was waiting patiently outside the shop. Omi said hi as he got out of the car and walked past her to go inside to talk to Momoe-san. Aya could use some time alone with his sister.


"Youíre still my sister," she said with a small smile.

"Iím afraid so." He felt ashamed. "I should have contacted you again, but everythingís been crazier than usual."

"Itís okay. Somethingís wrong now, isnít it?"

"We have to leave."

"Again? You just got here!"

"Youíve been keeping tabs on us?" It made him feel warm even as it made him worry about her.

"How do you think I knew where to find you? Ran, you were gone for months. Youíve only been here for a few weeks...."

"I know. Itís not fair."

"Are you in danger?"

"Is there a time when weíre not?" When her lips trembled, he quickly said, "Iím sorry, Aya, I was just being flippant."

"No, you werenít. This is where your routine about staying away from me for my own good started, isnít it?"

"Yeah."

She hugged him, holding on tightly. "Youíll call, right? Especially when you become my brother again. I really want to know."

He wrapped his arms around her. "Iíll call." She smelled like flowers, dirt, perfumed soap, and a little sweat, utterly unlike the stale, sour hospital scents he remembered on her skin.

"How much trouble are you in? Omiís been watching you through the window the whole time."

"Heís overreacting." To throw her off the scent, he added, "Heís also interested in me," hoping that the tidbit would be too juicy for her to skip over.

"Thatís there too, but itís not all of it. What?"

"Iím very proud of you."

"That Iím paranoid?"

"Youíre aware. Youíre safer that way," he answered. But she was uncomfortable now. "Iím sorry, Aya. Do you want to go back inside?"

"Yes. You have to go, donít you?"

"Not really. Not yet."

"Youíre twitching and checking the street, Ran. Youíre worried that youíre making me a target, arenít you?"

"I hate this."

"I know. I do too." She kissed him. "I have to go back to work."

His heart twisted. "All right." He gave her one final hug and stared forlornly at her back as she went into the shop.

Omi walked out to him. "What happened?"

"She saw that weíre assassins." Aya shook his head. "Coming back to Tokyo was a mistake. Now I just know I was right not to contact her. Itís even possible that I might still be myself if we hadnít come here."

"You donít know that."

"I donít know anything." Aya ran his hand through his hair. "Can I borrow your cell phone? I need to make a call. A private call."

"I donít want us to get separated--"

Enough. "I can sit in the car, and you can watch me through the window from inside Kitten in the House. Just like you did while I was talking to my sister."

Omi paled, then said, "All right." He handed his phone over and went back inside, casting upset glances over his shoulder now and then.

Aya took a deep breath that failed to calm him, then sat in the Porscheís driver seat and closed the door. This might be a mistake. It would look desperate to call her the next day. It might be a deliberately wrong number.

Oh, fuck it. He dialed.

On the third ring she answered, "Hello?" Right number.

He hadnít even realized how afraid heíd been that sheíd just blown him off kindly until now. Weak. Stupid. Just like calling was. "Itís Aya."

"Aya!" She sounded surprised and pleased. "Canít get enough of me, huh?"

"I wish it were that simple. Iím calling to let you know that I have to leave the city sooner than I thought. Business."

"Youíre calling to-- Youíre a traveling florist?"

Who would believe that? "It sounds ridiculous, I know. It wasnít my idea."

He could hear her smile. "Itís perfect for you, Aya."

"Iím starting to wonder what kind of impression you have of me."

"Wouldnít you like to know."

"Thatís what I said."

"Can I see you before you go?" she purred.

Of course, she must have thought that he wanted a goodbye tryst. Why else would he call? "No. Weíre leaving very soon. Iím not even sure where weíre going."

She said nothing for a minute, then replied, "If youíre in a cult, you can tell me."

"Yukio!"

"It makes sense. You travel Japan selling flowers to support your cult. I could ride in and rescue you if you want."

He smiled, even though she couldnít see it. "Iím not in a cult."

"Sure, thatís what they make you say...."

"All right. Iím in a cult. My god demands blood and flowers."

"See? Donít you feel better now?"

"No. Not really. I donít want to go."

"Then donít!"

He couldnít tell her that they were leaving because of something that had happened to him, making him responsible. "Itís the way the business works."

"The traveling florist business."

He couldnít tell her the truth. Iím not really a woman. I am a florist. I am an assassin. Weíre running because our location is known to a rival group of assassins who have psychic powers.

He wondered if sheíd noticed his scars and bruises last night.

"Yes. Iím sorry." He could feel another door closing behind him. Whether he wanted it or not, WeiŖ could be the only personal contacts in his life. Fighting it made no difference.

"Let me know when you get back."

"Of course." She probably wouldnít care by then. Besides, heíd hopefully be male, which wouldnít interest her. "Goodbye, Yukio."

"I donít believe in goodbyes, Aya. íTil next time."

He turned off the phone and took another deep breath, feeling claustrophobic.


Omi watched. He had to, to keep Aya safe. Knowing that he intruded on something private, unable to stop anyway, he watched Aya be flirtatious, then seemingly heartbroken. Heíd never seen Aya so naked.

Who was it he spoke to? Was this the Ďnot alwaysí on the phone?

Omi understood Aya very well sometimes. To some extent, everyone in WeiŖ had the same experience. Why reach out to anyone when life kept smacking you for even trying? As a woman, Aya had been reaching out and kept being punished for it. Who would blame him for giving up?

Somber, Omi waved goodbye to Aya-chan and Momoe-san and walked out to the car. When he tapped on the window, Aya opened the door for him. Despite the curiosity burning through him, Omi didnít ask whom Aya had been talking to.

And Aya, even more somber, said nothing all the way back to the trailer.

Ken and Yohji already had the trailer ready to leave. "Kanazawa," Yohji muttered. "What the hell do any of us know about Kanazawa?"

"Itís near the Sea of Japan," Aya answered softly.

"Well, thatís ever so helpful. We have my car hooked up. Manx said sheíll drive the Porsche to us tomorrow."

"It doesnít matter," Aya said. "Is there anything more that needs to be done?"

"Kenís already securing his motorcycle, so no, weíre good."

"I think Iíll go to bed then." Aya left.

Yohji looked at Omi. "This is so not good. What happened?"

"He said his goodbyes," Omi answered. "He probably feels like this wouldnít have happened if he hadnít attracted Schuldigís attention. Depression would be a natural reaction."

"And Ayaís naturally depressed already."

Which Yohji hadnít exactly helped, but Omi managed not to say that. "Exactly."


Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten

E-mail the authors:
Maya Tawi - mayatawi@populli.net
Viridian5 - Viridian5@aol.com

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