Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Inside a Picture ❯ Admission ( Chapter 2 )

Title- Inside A Picture (Renamed) Chapter Two: Admissions
Author- Locura
Warnings- OOC, AU Strange K+O/O+K (possible KxO)
Archive- Fanfiction.net and www.mediaminer.org other then that if you want it you can have it just tell me where it went!
Disclaimer- My paint is non-toxic so even when I accidentally eat some I have no delusions of owning Weiß Kreuz.
Author Notes- Alright, I changed one or two -little- things in the first part you might have missed. #1 is the most obvious because it's the title. It was called Pictured but it's now renamed. The second is that Aya was eradicated; his part in the story is now much different. Ken, and Yohji don't know Aya yet or at least they aren't friends. Alright! That good? Hope this part worked right, Enjoy!

***= Beginning and End

***

Ken backtracked until he hit the wall, his body tense and eyes wide. "W-what are you doing here?"

The picture boy blinked, now not looking quite as surprised as before, and looked nervous instead, as if unsure how to answer that.

"I got locked in."

"You- got locked in?" The boy nodded. "You got locked in here." He nodded again looking concerned while Ken looked as if he were going to protest or say something else but opted to instead slowly slide down the wall, letting himself calm down remotely and get a clear look at the other boy who was locked in with him.

The boy looked as if he had jumped out of the picture: shotish shorts with dark tipped pockets and a lace up azure shirt (1) adorn his body while expressive blue eyes peered at him past choppy blond bangs. It was too much of a resemblance to be a coincidence but Ken couldn't check the painting to make sure because of his position against wall.

"Are you alright? I didn`t mean to scare you." The boy left his wall and walked over. "My name is Omi. Sense were both stuck here we might as well know who we are, right?"

Ken shook his head a moment, smiling a little. "I`m Ken."

Omi sat down next to him and silence reined the gallery.

"Hey Omi?" Ken turned and faced the other boy. "How did you get my sketch pad? I could have sworn we should have passed at least once earlier for you to have gotten it out of my backpack."

The blue eyed boy blushed brightly. "I have a tendency to blend in around here. I`m sorry I didn`t ask first but I really wanted to see your work. Your very good."

"Its nothing. Just something I try to for fun. What were you doing here anyway?"

"Oh. I was just hanging around, really. I like art a lot." He laughed. "You could say its my life, in a way."

Ken took the sketchpad from his limp hands and opened up to a new sheet. "I have homework to draw something this weekend, mind if its you?"

***

Ken sighed and shifted, trying to find a comfortable position on the floor. The other boy, Omi, and him had chatted for hours; all on impersonal things though both of them could tell the other was curious. And threw it all, Ken still didn't know how to ask the question that had been bugging him sense he had laid eyes on blond haired boy.

It wasn't everyday you suspected another boy of jumping out of a painting and seeing that was what he suspected had happened he was seriously questioning his sanity.

But the question of the night was- how did one ask someone if they were magically from a picture and not sound insane.

Ken turned to his side and was about to throw caution, and what he considered good sense, out the window and ask when he felt something cuddle into him.

The lights had been dimmed not to long ago, but there was just enough light for the brown-haired boy to make out Omi's shape. The other boy was curled up next to him, his fists lightly grasping at his shirt and head nestled against his chest. Ken felt his heart soften and he slowly reached up to run his fingers threw the blonds hair, unable to resist the impulse. Omi mewed and blinked sleepily at the touch, but settled back down a moment later having not fully awakened threw the entire incident.

Ken smiled and shook his head. The other boy was too cute for his own good, despite all the secrets he obviously kept.

Promising to himself he'd ask in the morning Ken closed his eyes, a small smile still gracing his lips.

***

Persia stepped out of his car and jingled his keys in one hand. Manx would be in later, at the normal opening time but he wanted to go in early and check on things. Something told him he should check everything out, something was warning him. Warning him of what? Of that he wasn't sure.

He slowly walked to the door, cursing his arthritis silently, and unlocked it. Pushing it open the older man was surprised to find that it didn't squeak.

`Maybe the other boy, Yohji, had finally done his job and oiled the hinges?' He thought as he starting on his way before shaking his head clear and closing the door, now was not a time for those thoughts.

Moving as quietly as possible Persia crept threw the gallery, eyeing every corner and shadow with a quiet suspicion. That Fujimiya character -had- been calling more often about buying the gallery, he might have come and done something to it in the night for not selling it to him.

Persia's heart pounded as he reached the last and newest wing to the gallery. This was it, this would be the place the culprits would be.

Persia was ready for everything, vandalism, a burglar, fire, graffiti. All of it. Everything but to see Omi snuggled up to his employee Ken and for Ken's arms around Omi.

The old-timer gaped and uttered a hushed sound that reverberated off the walls and caused Ken to begin to stir. The boy yawned widely and stretch but didn't move away from the other body next to him.

It took a moment for the boy to notice there was another presence in the room but when he did Ken jumped to his feet and began sputtering explanations and apologies.

Persia shook his head, walked up to the distressed boy, and cupped him on the shoulder. "Its alright Siberian. No harm done. Just remember not to get your self hurt." His gentle hold on his shoulder became a squeeze, though not quiet enough to be painful. "And don`t hurt him."

Then Persia was gone, mumbling and tottering off to his office and Six thirty in the morning.

***

Ken blinked at the retreating back of the older man. It was creepy the way he's seem so harmless and scatterbrained at one time and then others he was strong and quick as a whip as he must have been in his earlier years.

Pushing those thoughts away once again Ken turned around, trying to decide weather or not he should go back to sleep or wake Omi up before leaving.

But instead the decision was made for him.

The place were the other boy had been sleeping only moments before was empty. Void of life and amazingly cold, as if no one had been there in the first place.

Startled Ken turned in a circle but no one was there.

There was no way Omi could have gotten past him without him seeing him, but nonetheless the boy from the painting was gone.

Frowning, the brown-haired boy walked determinedly towards the painting which he hadn't had time to look at, at all last night. There it was, like it always was. The boy in the hammock was still laying so he was peeking out from the ropes. There was only one thing different, and Ken wouldn't have noticed it himself if he wasn't so familiar with the painting. Clutched tightly in the boys hands and partially hidden by his body was Ken's sketch book.

***

It was half a week before Ken saw Omi again, but not once threw that time had the boy been totally absent from his thoughts. It had gotten so bad that Yohji was convinced that he had a girl friend and the teachers thought he was trying a new cloud (2).

But Ken couldn't help it. The strange boy the came out of the painting was fascinated him and he was determined to find out more about the boy. But it was more then just amazed fascination of the magic he had inadvertently been apart of that attracted him. It felt like he was being pulled to the gallery everyday, and everyday he met with disappointment when he did not see the blond head and blue eyes of the painting boy outside of the flat impression.

He had denied the thought that he was attracted to Omi for the first few days. The day after that he had admitted it, and today he accepted it. Accepting it was hardest part because how many people could accept the fact that he was attracted to someone of the same sex, and that same boy was part of a painting. For all he knew the boy's personality could only be synthesized into him from the original artists work and he couldn`t grow.

`Or,' Ken thought sarcastically to himself as he dusted the basement of the art gallery. `I could just be losing my mind.'

He bent to pick up a clean rag to clean and something clattered to the ground behind him. Whirling Ken froze. There in front of him was the boy, again seeming to appear out of thin air.

"Hey Ken!" His voice was cheery and he bounced over to where Ken was standing.

"Hey Omi." Ken reached for the sketchpad that was held lightly in the blond boys grasp and he blushed. "What's up?"

"I`m sorry I took your sketch pad again. But I wanted to see you again and...." He fumbled for the words.

"Its alright Omi, no harm done." Ken held his breath a moment before letting out in a whoosh. "Hey Omi? Are you by any chance the boy in the painting? The one in the Hammock, upstairs in the new gallery?"

The blue-eyed boy's shoulders sagged and he stopped meeting Ken's eyes as he sat down on the floor, taking no notice of the dust pile. "N-no! Of course not!"

Ken sat down next to him, mindful of the dust and look at him, it was obvious Omi was lying threw his teeth. "Omi, don't lie to me."

Omi bit his lip and turned his shoulder to Ken before mumbling. "Yes, I am."

Ken put a hand on his shoulder and the other boy started to shrug away but Ken put his hand firmly down. "Its alright Omi. I don't care what your from, it doesn't both me."

Omi turned, his face looking hopeful. "You-you don't? You don't mind that I'm stuck in a picture?"

Ken shook his head. "Why would I? It might be one of the more unusual aspects of you, but your are still you either way."

"Thank you, Ken." His voice was a whisper. "Thank you."

***

1. Random moment time: I know Omi at sometime wears a lace up brown shirt, its the same only blue because if I'm thinking right in a picture he'd blend into to much with the background if it were brown.

2. Its a term for a person who's just started doing drugs, at least were I am.