Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Soliloquies ❯ In Retrospect, Yohji was a stalker and Aya was paranoid ( Chapter 8 )

Time flies when you're having fun or contemplating murder

Shit. It's lunch, and Omi and Ken's still not back. Fuck. Now I have to go through lunch with the enemy, who is currently flirting with every annoying girl in the store.

"I'm sorry ladies but we have to close shop for a while, it's lunch and the other two's not back yet." Yohji told the girls who sighed in reply. "You don't want me and Ayan to starve now would you?" he replied, winking. Got.to.stop.from.barfing. Control yourself Aya, you will not barf. Soon the hordes of hormone-driven females are expertly shooed away by Ku… Yohji… argh! By Yohji. There. He's like pastor to those noisy sheep. He has excellent social skills, I'll give him that. Kami, he's coming my way. What does he want now? Calm down, Aya, you will be sociable to this lout.

(YOHJI)

"So, where'd you wanna eat?" I ventured, focusing my whole attention to my voice so it won't tremble, while being as casual as possible, like I ask him to lunch every other day. I debated whether to give him my most charming smile or not, and decided against it. No need to pull out all the stops and sweep him off his feet, I might wake up dead one day. He gives me a passive look, and continued fixing the counter and then himself before he replied.

"Anywhere you like, Yohji-kun, it's fine with me."

I try not to weep for joy. God, don't let this day ever end.

(AYA)

How long am I suppose to stay with this… this… evil incarnate?! Kami, will this day never end?!

In retrospect, Yohji was a stalker and Aya was paranoid

So that's how we started off, right? I saw it as a sign to make my move; he saw it as a premonition to death. While I was elated, he on the other hand, was a nerve away from slicing off my head. It never occurred to me how twisted our story was, not until I survey it now in retrospect. The Odd Couple would've seemed normal compared to us, but I'm getting ahead of the story. So there we were, at lunch, he passively cutting his salad, I nervously butchering my steak. For an experienced killer and a garrote wielding one at that, my hands seemed bent on sweating and shaking like crazy. In all my life… well, my third life (read: epoch 1- innocence, epoch 2- killer, epoch 3- post Asuka/Neu/crazy killing heart eating bitch), I've never been so… nervous is too strong a word… apprehensive. It's like, all those skirmishes and near death experiences on crazy killer missions were just encounters with the mushrooms and flying turtles and now, with Aya it's like facing off with King Kupa (not as Mario, of course, I'm more of a Luigi. Ken's the Mario type). Sorry, Super Mario Game was my companion during those times when Mumsy left me by myself- before puberty hit, that is. But that's another story.

So, back in the conveniently small, cozy, hidden café- imagine my surprise when he actually agreed to eat with me. I know he "despised" my fast food diet (when not on a date) - well, excuse me for growing up on Mumsy's McDonald take-outs- so I checked restaurants that would be okay with the both of us ever since, uh, the start of this `obsession' for lack of a better term. I was surprised he decided to eat at all- he's like a cucaracha, man, what does he feed on? Well, I learned that day- Aya eats salads, sparingly, might I add. What kind of florist by day, assassin by night has salads for meals? Yeah, I know, they're called vegetarians but I mean, come on, man's gotta have meat! And with our line of work, and with the way he eats (a meal a day or something), he's something short of a superman who's fueled by hatred for funny-haired politicians. Where does he get the energy, from photosynthesis? He's not even a vegetarian, not really, `coz I saw him eat a pork barbecue once, he's just… not a big eater- well, and that's an understatement.

I have to stop drifting away here, okay, back at the restaurant. We didn't talk much, I wanted to, but Aya's Mr. Table Manners, and he was so busy lovingly cutting the vegetables, slowly raising the fork and placing it in his mouth, and again slowly taking the fork down while he deliberately chewed and occasionally licked his lips in such an oh-so-luscious way… I was somewhere between mesmerized and frustrated, not to mention conscious of my own table manners and desperately wishing I could be his fork for that moment. So lunch passed us by, and after we split the bill (stubborn idiot won't let me pay) there wasn't really much to do but leave and walk back home. I stalled, stopping to buy cigarettes, pretending to look for something in the convenient store, some food for Ken, anything and everything to stall. Aya bore it patiently, but passively, occasionally tapping his foot and sometimes looking around for himself. We were nearing home, and I was racking my mind for anything else to do, when my eye spied the benevolent ice cream cart. So I went,

"Hey, Aya, want some ice cream? I'll treat `ya."

He gave me a look I can't decipher, but probably one that didn't mean anything, and nodded his head. Then he answered yes he'd like some, in afterthought. I controlled myself to not skip and grin like silly.

(AYA)

So there I was, holding a cone of strawberry ice cream, in the middle of the street, with Yohji-let's-have-ice-cream-Kudou. Judging as to how the kids who ate the same ice cream before me are still alive and breathing, the ice cream's relatively safe. This scene seems awfully familiar… oh look, Kudou's enjoying his pistachio ice cream. Fucker.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Damn it, the man just won't give me a moment's respite. I moved my facial muscles to allow as much teeth to show without hurting myself. Some people call it "smile", I believe. He cringed. I must have overdone it. There, now I won't smile at you anymore you unappreciative idiot, I thought. Then I felt something cold on my hand… the ice cream was melting and dripping pink globs on me.

"Ah shit." Even the ice cream's against me. I was about to ask him if he had any tissue or if the vendor handed him any, when I reminded myself that this was Kudou, someone planning to kill me. So I licked my hand, every finger.

(YOHJI)

I turned to tell him something, to start a conversation, when I saw him busily licking of the melted ice cream from his hand. That was when I went `Holy. Fucking. Shit. `

(AYA)

My mind was going: `There, it's clean. Don't. Blanch. Pretend you lick your hand all the time. Like some deaf and dumb idiot left on a deserted island and grew up without any manners whatsoever. Ugh, got to get rid of the taste on my tongue! Well, that's what the ice cream's for… there'. `Strawberrific', somebody told me. Amazing what perfectly inane words they can come up with by adding -ific and -licious. Like, Yohji-rific, or Kudou-licious. Mmmpft. Hahahaa! I mean, thinking it is one thing, but saying those words, and to Kudou no less, is another. I say this because I heard one girl Kudou brought home say it. To him. And he didn't kill her by its corniness alone. I shook my head at that. Just goes to show what kind of vocabulary he has.

(YOHJI)

I don't remember anything I did except watching him run his tongue on that alabaster skin… until I heard a familiar baritone say to me:

"You might want to start licking."

Ah, then I remember going beet red, while my mind flashbacked to several choice episodes from my wet dreams about him. I stammered, I mean, what the hell did he mean by licking?!

"Wha… what?"

"You're ice cream's melting. You might want to start licking, Yohji-kun." He replied; cool as cucumber while I was melting along with my Ice cream.

"O…oh… yeah."

It's like that; everything he says and does translates differently to me. No normal person would tell another to lick him in the middle of the street, much less Aya. And why was he licking his hand anyway?! He wasn't supposed to do that, he was supposed to walk back to the vendor to ask for tissues or ask me for one, he was being unfair! He was clearly toying with me! He was… well, he wasn't. I'm just over-reacting. But he sure was behaving out of the ordinary. So I gave the ice cream cone a mean glare and threw it into the next trash can that came along the way. I know, I'm being unfair to the poor unsuspecting pistachio scoop, but heck it ruined my day, making me jump into conclusions like that. Besides, the shop was near, and my pants were getting uncomfortable, so I hurried my steps and dropped any idea of a conversation. The knot in my stomach was getting worse, I needed to… you know… take care of things.