Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Reminiscence of Antiquity ❯ Another First Day ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter: 1 - Another First DayRated: PG13 (some reference to violence)

Warnings: Eventual shounen-ai ( AxY & KxO)

Legal stuff: Well... I think it's obvious but I'll state it anyway. I down own them! Please don't sue me? I'm poor... seriously...>_>;;

Author and Editor notes: This is the beginning of an epic story. We would apologize for the length but some stories take longer to tell then others. Hell we don't even know when it's going to get done so be prepared for many chapters to come.

Thanks to: My editor. Shaeric Draconis. The Squall x Zell + Aya x Youji Yaoi fanfic group. Creators of Weiss Kreuz. My fellow Gypsies everywhere.

AYYA! Vive la Resistance!

~*~

Yohji scratched the back of his neck as he walked down the hall with the principle leading the way. A new school, a new time to pretend, how wonderful. He let out a sigh and adjusted the backpack, which was barely filled with a notebook, some paper and a couple of pens: the essentials, of course; nothing more and nothing less.

"Mr. Kudou, this is where your first hour class is, I suspect you can find the rest of them on your own with the aid of your schedule?" The rather robust man questioned him. Naturally he hadn't exactly been paying attention but the last part of what the man had to say, by miracle, managed to not escape him like everything else.

"Yes sir." That's right. He was the good teenager who addressed adults as if they were Gods or at the very least, Kings and Queens.

"Good, then I take my leave." The principle spoke as he wrinkled his button nose then wandered off down the hall.

"That's right tubby…" Yohji muttered under his breath, "Time to get back to the Twinkies and porn magazines in your office."

He obviously disliked the man but for more than one reason. The man was rude and treated him like an idiot. The man knew only a little about his past and he already marked him as a troublemaker. Just because one person moves from school to school does not mean that they got themselves thrown out of the school or had to leave because they were nothing but troublemakers. Judgmental. That's what he hated most about that disgustingly obese man- he was flat out judgmental with no right to be.

Turning the doorknob he opened the door to the classroom and slipped in. The teacher was at the front giving a lecture when he paused in mid-sentence, holding a rather annoyed look that was, with no doubt, meant for Yohji.

"May I help you sir?" The teacher shifted his weight and practically threw himself into a power trip. What was with these people?

"I'm new and my schedule says that I have psychology first hour…" The boy spoke lightly, ignoring all the eyes that were on him.

"Let me see your schedule." The teacher instructed, holding out a hand to receive the paper.

Yohji narrowed his eyes and put the folded piece of paper into the man's calloused hands. He hated being called a liar and that's exactly what this man was doing. Jerk. Upon finding that Yohji was not a liar after all, the teacher walked over to his desk and pulled out a few materials. A book, a worksheet, and a three by five note card.

"Write your name and grade on the note card and give the card to me after class. You may take a seat in that chair in the over there…" The teacher motioned to a seat towards the center right of the room. Grand.

Yohji nodded an agreement then made his way over to the seat, all the while trying desperately not to notice the whispers about him and violating eyes feeding on him. He pushed his dark glasses further up on his nose so that his jade eyes could not be seen. He didn't know what the hell they were staring at. It was as if they had never seen a new person before.

Maybe it was because his clothes were a bit ratty. A worn out pair of jeans and a muted grey sweater that had to have been four sizes too large for his slender frame, clothed him. Or rather, hung on him and barely that. The neck of the sweater slipped off the side of one of his shoulders and he decided not to fix it, besides, what did he care if someone could see a paling shoulder that once held a healthy tan to it? He didn't.

The class seemed to drag on and he caught himself wanting to fall asleep at least eight times over though he refused himself to doze off. It didn't matter if he didn't get any sleep the previous night because he had to clean the whole house before morning. No one here cared about that. No one here cared about him. A ringing filled his ear and for a moment the thought he had finally dropped off his rocker. However, the more rational side to him quickly embraced the other side and informed it that it was merely the school bell ringing and not his brain. What a relief. Gathering his books he rose to his feet and pushed his stuff into the backpack that looked about ready to fall apart. The poor bag had been through hell and back but he could't afford to get another, not until he got a job… if he could get a job.

"Oi!" A younger voice seemed to call after him, "New kid!" He hated that title but he turned to look at his addresser anyway.

"What?" He spoke flatly, not in the mood to take taunting if that was what was to come.

"Hi! I just… wanted to say hi." A boy, who couldn't have been older then seventeen, smiled at him.

"Hi." He lifted an eyebrow and once again pushed up the falling glasses further onto his nose while inspecting the boy. He was tall, athletic and had dark brown hair to match his dark brown eyes. No doubt he was in a sport of some type by the way he moved and wore a jersey, probably soccer if his guess was right.

"I'm Hidaka Ken..." Ken grinned like the devil and offered a hand to Yohji in a friendly enough manner.

Yohji just blinked a few times. Was this kid for real? Who walked up to the new kid after his first class and introduced himself as if he wanted to be friends? It had to be a trick of some sort.

"Kudou Yohji." The blond stated and shook the brunette's hand before releasing quickly and turning on his heel to go.

"Oro!" Ken sighed, "Wait, wait… at lunch, do you want to come eat with me?" Yohji froze then turned to glance at Ken who just continued to smile.

"Sure… I guess." He shrugged while trying not to be too skeptical at the kind offers being thrown at him.

"Cool! Meet me on the steps at the front and we can go grab some lunch." Ken chuckled then waved, "See ya then!" And with that said, the boy darted down the hallway. Strange. Looking at his watch then looking at his schedule he groaned in knowing that he might be late to the next class. Oh well, he had an excuse; he was new here. Trudging off to English he cursed the school system for being so retarded that they forced him to take a needlessly boring class. They might as well have called the class 'Nap time 101' because that's all anyone did in that class, or at least as far as he could tell.

The rest of school was a blur until lunch where he only remembered that he was supposed to be eating lunch with Ken when the soccer boy waved him down.

"Oi, Kudou, did you forget you said you'd eat lunch with me?" Ken smirked.

"Ah. Gomen…" The older boy laughed nervously.

"It's alright." Ken shrugged then started to walk along, expecting Yohji to follow him, which he did.

The two talked a little, or rather, Ken talked at Yohji about sports, the school and everything under the sun while Yohji responded with short one word answers. Both had brought a lunch so there was no need to go out and get something like half the other high school kids. Apparently Ken thought it was healthier for him to pack his own lunch and so he hardly ever went out to eat and Yohji… well, Yohji didn't have money to go out to eat so he scrapped up a few pieces of meat and bread then managed to snag and apple before he left his place that morning.

"Yohji?" Ken question between bites.

"Hm?"

"Where did you move here from?"

Yohji's eyes narrowed a bit as he mumbled the name of a town a few hours from there. It grew quickly obvious that Yohji didn't want to talk about his past, or at least it should have been obvious and by the way Ken changed the subjects he figured Ken had caught on. That or Ken was flighty when it came to conversations and both seemed likely.

"Where are you living now?"

Good question. "A few blocks on the south side from the temple on Cherry Hill, it's not far from here." He shrugged.

Ken nodded but said nothing. He knew the area where Yohji was talking about and it didn't settle well with him. The places on the south side of the Cherry Hill temple were nothing but ghettos and fairly run down slums. Maybe Yohji was mistaken? Why would a family move there? Any remotely sane family would have known better then to move into a neighborhood that bad.

Lunch ended quickly as did the rest of the day and Yohji found himself taking the long way home. He wanted to get home before dark but he didn't want to get home before the sun was about to set either. He hated his new home and he hated his new family. If only… If only his mother had been more careful. He blamed this all on her but deep down inside, he knew he shouldn't. He loved his mother though, at the same time, he resented her for leaving him to live this life of hell.

A dove-like hand floated upwards to rub the back of his neck. It was a rather nervous habit of his, rubbing the spot where a tattoo lay. His mind suddenly threw him back into his musing over the tattoo on his neck, or rather, the strange scribbles that he didn't know much about. Not that it mattered, he often forgot it was even there, or at least until he got nervous or bored.

The can Yohji was kicking made a racket as it skidded along the side of the street. Noise. There was always so much noise everywhere. It's a shame silence had become a lost art. A black car slowed down next to him and his footsteps instinctively became softer as his muscles prepared him for the run of his life. He was just about to take off like a bat out of hell when the window rolled down and a pale face leaned out the passenger window.

"Need a ride, Kudou?"

Yohji closed his eyes and let out a breath of air, "Sure." He smiled, willing his heart to beat less intensely and his blood to cool.

The passenger door opened and Yohji tossed his ratty bag into the back seat while sliding into the comfortable leather upholstery of the porch. Carefully closing the door he sunk into the foreign car with a faint smile upon his lips.

"Seatbelt." The driver's voice ordered, causing Yohji to jump a little.

"Slave driver." Yohji frowned while tugging at the seatbelt so he could pull it over him.

"How's the new family working out for you?" The man asked flatly as he shifted gears and began to head down the road.

"I hate it." Yohji sighed, sinking a little into the seat more.

"Why's that?"

"They're jerks."

"Kudou…" That was a warning scowl.

"But they are." Yohji went on to protest, "They're dirt poor and they don't know how to treat kids. I don't know why they adopted any."

"They have more money then you do, currently." There was a short pause of uncomfortable silence before the older man went on, "Are they abusive?"

"No…"

"Hn."

Yohji glanced over at the driver with a sigh, wondering why the man ever bothered to stick around. Lavender eyes glanced over at him from behind strands of crimson hair and caused a shiver to melt down his spine. The older man was ghostly pale but it added to how handsome he really was. Why this man had ever decided to be a caseworker and not a model was truly beyond Yohji. He could probably make more money as a model then he was making now, no doubt.

"Fujimiya-san?" Yohji shifted and the amethyst eyes averted themselves back to the road.

"Hm?"

"Is there a reason you're here? I mean, a real reason you came to my neighborhood after I got out of school?"

"Can't I drop by to say hi?"

"No. That's unlike you. You only come if you have business."

The redheaded man leaned into his seat, "I came to check up on you to see if you were settling in alright with your new family. The organization and myself are hoping you won't get kicked out or taken out of this home too. After all, eight different homes in two years is a little extensive, don't you think so?"

"Fujimiya-san…" He started but the car stopped in front of his house.

"I'm off hours, just call me Aya."

Yohji looked at the broken apartment building outside the window and remorse trickled into the pit of his stomach. His jade eyes darted back over to the red head, holding silent pleas and screams within them.

"Can we go out somewhere first?"

"Don't you have homework?"

"I can get it done later…" Yohji pressed, not trying to show the desperation that was clearly written across his face.

Aya took one good look at him then sighed, "When did you eat last?"

"I had a few bites of a sandwich at lunch…"

"If I treat you to dinner then take you home will you promise me that you'll go in and do your homework? No late sneaking around or running away this time?"

Yohji slowly nodded as his stomach growled at them both, causing Aya to finally shift his car gears and head down the road at a rapid pace. Getting used to having Yohji around was becoming a bad habit for Aya and he knew it; after all, being Yohji's caseworker for as many years as he had been, it was hard not to grow a bit of a bond with the young man. Through the corner of his eye he could see Yohji digging around for something.

"No smoking in the car." He said flatly.

"I know that." Yohji flashed him a grin through he attempted to not pay attention.

How old was Yohji now? Seventeen? That's right, he was seventeen now and still depended heavily on Aya for assistance. Aya knew that the minute Yohji turned twenty the boy would take off to go back to his friends and those he loved from far away if they didn't come for him first.

"Are you okay, Aya?" Yohji lifted an eyebrow when he saw how tense the older man was. Older man. That made Yohji smile for he knew that his caseworker was no older then twenty five or twenty six. Apparently Aya had started college early on his life which was something Yohji didn't think he himself would be doing. Not with the other family he had to take care of. Rubbing the back of his neck where the strange scribbles of a tattoo were, he waited for Aya to respond.

"Fine." A delayed response but nonetheless a response.

"Right." Yohji shook his head; he wasn't going to argue with Aya even when he knew Aya wasn't telling the truth.

The car pulled into a little restaurant and the two men stepped out before heading in, all without a word to each other. This was typical of them. Aya was always the strong and silent type and Yohji… well, after years of moving from home to home and years of suffering abuse and all sorts of other crap, he learned to keep his mouth closed when it wasn't wanted open.

After they were seated they both looked over the menus before a woman came and took their orders. Growing rapidly tired of the silence between them, Yohji took the inititive upon himself to speak up; knowing very well that Aya wouldn't do it first unless he had to.

"So when do I get to see you next?"

Aya lifted his amethyst eyes to feast upon the youth before him, "You have my cell phone number."

Yohji merely rolled his eyes, "That doesn't mean you'll answer or come over when I ask you to."

A frown deepened, "Whenever you call and want me to come get you, I will. That's what I'm here for Yohji."

Yohji simply sighed and he forced himself to look down at his food when it came thanks to their waitress. He had no reason to doubt Aya but there was always that thread of wariness in him. Perhaps because once Aya had come just a little too late and ever since Yohji was forced to question it all. Pushing back the memory, which was unfortunately trying to make itself known in his already preoccupied mind, he swallowed hard and felt his heart start to race.

/ "Somebody help me!" /

"Kudou?"

/ "Help! Can anyone hear me? Help!" Tears began to stream down his young face as he beat his fists against the wooden floor just above the last step, "Help me…"

The darkness surrounded him and he could hear his own heartbeat screaming in his ears. Panic was starting to set in and he couldn't help his body that was starting to give way to panic that forced hyperventilation to over come him. The dark is where bad things lurked and it was in the dark that those bad things were free to come for him.

How long had he been in his place? How much longer would he be there? Starvation. Dehydration. All were beginning to warp his twisting thoughts into a most horrifying nightmare…/

"Yohji…"

/ "Help… me…." His tiny voice broke the deafening silence around him.

He was more than afraid; he was down right petrified. So weak and so alone he swore he felt the hands of the darkness reach out and snatch him away from the floor above his head. The hands pulled him further into the darkness as he fell off the top of the stairs and into the pit below. He was cold with no clothing to keep him warm though the fever that tore his body apart was burning him alive.

Something warm and wet was sticking to his skin as it pooled bellow him. Whatever it was, it was thick and smelt terrible like the rest of his personal hell. A new darkness was rapidly approaching him… a darkness that held much more comfort then the place he laid down in. With open arms and closed eyes he welcomed unconsciousness like a saint that had come to liberate him. Perhaps death was not so far now… /

"Yohji!" Aya was reaching across the table shaking him, "Yohji! Snap out of it!"

Roused by Aya's voice calling to him he looked up and stared straight into the lavender orbs watching him, just like they had before. The same concern was ever evident inside of them. Those eyes that called to him… those eyes that freed him.

/ "Yohji!" An angel? "Yohji! For the love of Gods, open your damn eyes!" That voice… "Yohji… please…"

At last he managed enough energy to open his weary eyes and pull himself from the internal pit he had fallen into. The most alluring set of lavender eyes were calling him like the voice from the owner of those eyes. Where had he seen those eyes before? He knew them… he knew he knew them.

"Forgive me…" The man was crying. Why? "Forgive me…" He whispered again… was he crying for him? Impossible, why would anyone shed tears for him?

"You came." He choked. This man was Death. Dressed in all black with unfeasibly pale skin, red hair and lavender eyes. This beautiful creature was death and death had come for him at last.

"Just relax, I'll take care of everything. I'll take care of you." He somehow managed a smile to come to him. At last Death was here to take care of him and take away all his pain. Other angels hurried about him and spoke to Death before taking a closer look at him. The angels were all dressed in strange suits and he thought to question it but his drowsiness got the better of him and his eyes closed for the last time in that place. /

"Sorry Aya, I must have spaced off." Yohji laughed, rubbing the side of his head.

"I'd say." Aya shook his head as he took a seat back in his chair, telling himself to calm down. Yohji had been known to space off when caught up in a memory and this would't have been so bothersome if Aya wasn't aware of the nightmarish memories that came to Yohji when he was in that state of being. Aya had always tried his best to help Yohji forget the awful times he lived through but no matter what the man did, he could never take away all the pain and agony that Yohji had already suffered through his rather short life.

Yohji shook away the haunting memories and continued to eat, knowing that this would be the biggest meal that he would eat for many days to come. He looked up to notice that Aya was just having a cup of coffee and small sandwich.

"Aren't you hungry?" Yohji questioned between bites.

"Not nearly as hungry as you, obviously." Aya said with a bit of humor in his voice.

"Ah, I skipped breakfast and I hurried through my lunch so I'm starved."

"Why did you miss breakfast?"

"I was late for school."

"Ah." Aya was analyzing everything that Yohji was saying and Yohji knew it.

"Are you happy where you're living?"

"No."

"Why?"

"You know why. I hate living with strangers."

Aya frowned but didn't press any further then that. Yohji would start to close up if he pried too much. Aya knew this after dealing with Yohji for so many years. The two ate in silence and Aya picked up the bill before they got into the car to take the long way home.

Silence. Business as usual, Yohji assumed. Aya's hands gripped the steering wheel as a play of emotions scattered across his face. Obviously he wasn't thinking to cover up his emotions like he normally did. Aya. What a strange man. What kind of parents named their male child Aya? Everyone knew that Aya was a girl's name. Maybe Aya wasn't even his real name but if that was so, then why go by it? As if he could hear Yohji's prying thoughts; Aya turned and locked eyes with Yohji's and the silence grew that much more intense. The car rolled to a stop and neither of them moved.

"Give me a call sometime, I'll be around next week to check up on you." Aya broke the silence first, oddly enough, and Yohji forced himself to blink a few times and remember that he was still sitting in Aya's car.

"Right," The boy said softly and his hand unlocked the car door just as someone else opened it for him… someone from the outside.

"Mr. Fujimiya-san. What a pleasant surprise." It was Yohji's new adopted father.

"Ikido-san." Aya nodded flatly.

"Won't you come in for bit?"

"No." Aya shook his head, "I'm afraid I have previous arrangements. Perhaps next time." Aya hardly ever came in.

"It was nice talking to you Fujimiya-san." Yohji sighed then gathered his bag and got out of the car. Aya couldn't help but notice the displeased expression that had taken over the young boy's features.

"I'll see you next week, Yohji." Aya nodded to the two of them then reached over and closed his passenger's door closed. Moving back he kept an eye on the two as they started to walk away. Tinted windows were useful in a job like this. He down shifted then drove away with all the day's events running through his mind in an aggravating continuous loop.

"What did you and Fujimiya-san have to discuss?" Yohji's adopted father prodded as they entered the apartment complex.

"Just about school and me fitting in." The younger man retorted as he slipped out from under his adoptive father's grasp.

He looked at his adoptive father who was partially glaring at him, though without giving the man so much as a chance to open his mouth, he darted up the stairs and headed towards their apartment. He hated his adoptive father.

The house smelled like stale french-fries and he wrinkled his nose upon entering the place. Some little children were crying and others were running around by his feet in mad chaos. With a sigh he headed towards his room only to be half caught by the voice of his adoptive mother.

"Yohji? Is that you?"

Cringing Yohji responded, "yes."

"Oh good! Harold and I were worried that you wouldn't be home in time to watch the kids when we go out."

Frowning to himself, Yohji said nothing in response before he drifted back to his room and closed the door. Yet another night he got to play a slave in the endless drama of his life. Wonderful. Sometimes when he was alone with his thoughts late at night, he half wished that Aya had never found him in the cellar of that house. Perhaps he would have lived for only another hour or two but in the end he would have died and not be living this monotonously tragic life.