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A Weib Kreuz fanfic by Joppo Kelin.
Characters do not belong to me but to their various respective owners.
“Aya! Aya! Don’t do this anymore!” hands grabbed at the angered redhead, pulling him back from the sidewalk that he was on, desperately trying to stop him from following the rapidly departing car.
But Aya was too angry, too frustrated to register the concerned voices, knew only of the strong grip that prevented him from following and putting a sharp end to Takatori Reiji. Even if it meant the cost of his life, even if it meant risking the possibility of never seeing Aya wake up again, the young man was dead serious. “Hanase- hanase-yo!” yelled the redhead in frustration before the arms finally loosened from its death grip, letting Aya roll away. He quickly scrambled to his feet, picking up his katana but already the car had disappeared round the bend, and was no longer in sight.
He turned back to glare at the blond figure who was slowly picking himself onto his feet.
“Aya – ” Yohji began, but couldn’t get any further as a fist crashed into his face and sent him sprawling back onto the pavement floor.
By the time he came to and felt two pairs of concerned hands helping him onto his feet again, Aya was gone.
* * *
Yohji breathed in the coffee gratefully, as Ken handed him a cup before handing the second one to Omi. The swelling on his eye had gone down somewhat, but his headache was still there, persistently throbbing at the back of his mind, making itself known. He winced as he turned his head, catching a blurred reflection of himself in the china. He would definitely have to cancel tomorrow night’s date with Yui. There was absolutely no way he could explain how a nice black eye mysteriously appeared when he had told her that he was supposedly spending a nice quiet evening looking after his sick aunt. Not that he would have had the heart to go out, he mused quietly to himself. The way events had rolled out tonight, tensions would be high at the flowershop come tomorrow and some would undoubtedly bleed into his date with Yui. And that would be unfair to her. Yohji in a foul mood… was well… Yohji in a foul mood.
He turned his thoughts back to the present, and caught Ken staring concernedly at him.
“Aya really decked you good this time round huh? It took us a while to wake you up. What happened?”
Yohji sipped his coffee. Good old Ken. There was no accusation in his words, just open concern at what had happened and a willingness to hear what had happened before judging. Besides him, Omi slid down to put a hand on Yohji’s shoulder, mistaking his musings for reticence to talk. “You can tell us anything, Yohji-kun,” he began sincerely.
Yohji shrugged, putting the cup down. “Well, while you two were disabling the power plant, we bumped into Takatori after eliminating the target. Aya gave chase and I stopped him – ”
“Well, no one asked you to,” interrupted a cold voice levelly, and three heads jerked up to see the last of their team standing at the doorway. To say that Aya was angry would be an understatement. He was practically seething in anger, even if a good solid two hours had passed.
He glared at Yohi before stalking away, up the staircase that would lead to their various bedrooms. The three of them winced as a loud crash followed not long after. Ken looked down at his watch. 3am. No doubt the neighbours would be complaining in the morning. If they didn’t call the police already. He turned to look at Yohji, the unspoken question in his mind but his thoughts trailed.
Yohji was looking at the door. “And let you get knocked down by that truck?” he called out to the figure that was no longer there. “Tell me Aya, do you really want Takatori Reiji dead so badly?”
He sniffed to himself, waiting for a reply that never came. “Jerk.”
* * *
Things in the flowershop, was as surmised, bad. Aya had fallen into a fouler mood, and was practically chasing every single customer out, which was quite a feat, mused Ken, considering the persistent fangirls that usually hovered at their shop every day. Yohji, being put off by their leader’s standoffish-ness had stalked off from the shop an hour ago, muttering about getting fresh air. Omi had class and was not due back for another hour at least to help with the damage control. Ken winced as he heard the angry sound of someone jabbing at the keys of the cash register. Hard. It was not a good day.
* * *
Manx dropped by later that night to pick up the data that Omi had procured from their dead target. And stopped dead in her tracks, taking note of one black eye, two stressed faces and one notably absent scowling redhead.
“Tension running high tonight?” she asked rhetorically as Omi handed the information package to her.
Yohji scowled in remembrance of yesterday’s events. “Aya’s off being psycho again. Who knows what’s going on in that icy face of his.”
Omi shot a look at his teammate. “Yohji,” he reproached reprovingly. Not that it was entirely wrong on Yohji’s part, but still.
“He’s obsessed with this Takatori, man. Stand in his way and behold the consequences.” He took off his sunglasses and gestured at his black eye. “What happens when we’re on a mission and he takes off halfway? What then?”
Manx watched the three young men bicker among themselves, each one arguing or pleading the case for the other. There was a time when she could remember not too long ago that instead of three actors, there were two.
Should she intefere? Or should she keep mum? But they were friends…
Manx coughed slightly, drawing the attention of the arguing proponents. They swiveled around to look at the secretary.
“Nani?”
“Fairy tales, Ken.”
“Fairy tales?” The man blinked at Manx with a look of confusion on his face. “Manx, what are you talking about? Aya? Fairy tales? Tell him fairy tales? I think he’ll probably just roll his eyes and ignore you!!”
“I’ve got a story to tell you.”
They chuckled but sobered down quickly as Manx glared at them.
“Do you want to hear the story or not?”
“Hai, hai… maybe it’s about our illustrious leader.” fight forgotten, the trio settled down around the couch, facing Manx and waiting to hear what she had to say. Even if it was a fairy tale. Aya’s past was already a shroud as it was.
“Once upon a time, there was a beast – “
Yohji rolled his eyes. “Well, that fits Aya enough!” He would have made further comments if not for the sharp ribbing he got from Ken and Omi to keep quiet.
“ – who lived in a big mansion – ”
“I hope I’m not a teapot in this story,” muttered Yohji darkly, causing a slight grin from Omi which disappeared rapidly when Manx noticed it.
“ – but before that time, there was a time when his face was handsome and his palace pleasant. But that was before the curse came… before the shadows fell on his house… before they touched his life and covered his heart. Then the darkness came, and dreading it, he hid. Hid himself in his palace and let the dark consume him until he was nothing more than a giant unruly surly monster with giant tusks, and one big bad mood. One look, and people fled in fear. They called him the beast.”
“But then one day, she came. Beauty. She with the golden heart and the compassion of a saint. Stories tell of her outstanding beauty and her golden tresses, but she was but an ordinary person. Just someone off the street. Like the rest she could have run screaming or just derided the beast… she needn’t have cared. But… she did. She looked beyond the outer ugliness to see the fragile lost soul inside.
And because she cared, because she loved the Beast and understood, the Beast slowly remembered himself and became beautiful again.”
Her voice trailed, and they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. For they were all beasts before some person, some beauty came into their lives...
Manx stood up. “I have to go. I have a meeting with Persia soon and I need to hand him the reports.” She was about to leave when Omi caught her hand.
“Thanks Manx,” he began sincerely. “For being a friend. For telling us about Aya.”
The red-haired secretary looked back and smiled slightly. “Actually I was talking about you.” She looked slowly at the three assassins. “All of you.”
* * * owari * * *
Note: Don't ask me where this came from. It didn't end the way which i wanted... but ah well!!!! If you ask me, i personally think it's a tad disjointed... oh dear... @_@
I’ve read this story dozens of times when I was a kid, and it was only until recently that it struck me, that would have happened if not for beauty? What if beauty decided to dwell on her own misery, her own concerns, and failed to come or see the beast for the true noble soul that he was? What would have happened if beauty had not persevered past the dirt and grime that characterized the outer and failed to see the inner?
Everybody has their moments of being the beast. Everybody has their own dark moments, times when the less pleasant nature surfaces, and for once, all the happiness, the joy, the smiles vanish. And what would we have done if not for that beauty, the one who comes along to remind us once more of ourselves, to bring us back to what we were!
And so, this story goes out to them as a heartfelt thanks. To my friends… my “beauties” who remind me time and again who I am.