Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Inside a Picture ❯ "Listen to me!" ( Chapter 4 )

Title- Inside A Picture (Renamed) Chapter Four: "Listen to me!"
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- Lets review= I like rain. Rain does not like CD's. Rain does not like fics because ink runs. ^.^; I need to remember that. Oh a warning- This entire story was giving to my brain in full without much thought but I'm having a bit of trouble putting it into words. So, this part might be a bit strange. Anyway, I still hope you Enjoy!

***= Scene Change, beginning and ending

*= Flash back

***

Ken raced down the streets, his cloths drenched in the downpour and clinging to him like a second skin. His pulse raced and eyes glowed anxiously in the dim light.

He had to talk to Omi and he had to do it now before he let his mind make itself up without all the facts.

*

"His family killed my Grandparents." The redhead's tone was conversational, as if speaking about the weather. "And he drove my mother to suicide and my sister into running in front of a car." The air grew cold after that as if trying to chill its way into Ken's very soul and the last sentence was icy. "My older sister's (1) been in a comma for around twenty years."

"And it's all his fault, though if I had any guess I would say he`d like her dead instead of the way she is now…a living vegetable."

*

Ken skidded on the wet pavement and almost missed the galleries door in his haste, but snagged it just barley on his fingertips stopping his momentum.

Just one more obstacle before he could straighten this all out.

*

"You think I`m lying." It was a statement not a question and Ken merely nodded. "She`s been gone for twenty years. I`ve had time to accept that death and pain can come from a face so innocent. You haven't accepted the possibility that he's a murderer."

At that Ken's coffee cup fell from his fingers. "I won`t believe you. Omi would never do any of the things you`ve suggested. He -is- innocent!"

The other boy glared at him, his lips pressed in a thin line. "There have been other deaths. My family wasn't the only one hurt. If you don`t believe me look it up..." he smirked, "or better yet, ask you lover. I`m sure he`d love to tell you all about it."

*

The halls were empty and the paintings hung hauntingly quiet against the walls. Nothing, from what Ken could tell, was moving. But just by a glance he could see that the Hammock picture was empty. He turned in a circle slowly taking in everything and watching the shadows dance on the walls as the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

Something felt wrong. The gallery was chilled; all of the halls and corridors were icy.

That could have been contributed to the circumstances of the night but the brown-haired boy still peered into every room as cautiously as he could and felt his heart pound with the shadows.

Everything was as empty and as quiet as the last until he reached Persia's room. The door was slightly ajar and light flashed out periodically with the lightning that had started just shy of his first arriving.

Gingerly he pushed at the door, which swung open without a sound to reveal what it kept.

His pulse pounded in his ears as his eyes scanned the room, his mind gradually stopping and not accepting any more information then what he now saw in front of him.

Omi was leaning over someone, his hair obscuring his face and hands over the person's heart. In the brief flashes of light he could make out the subtle shaking of the boys shoulders and how his hands rested at the mans cloths right above his heart.

If it had been any other night, before his conversation with the Fujimiya, Ken's mind wouldn't have jumped to conclusions. But it wasn't and the moment the blue-eyed boy turned towards him, his eyes shimmering with tears Ken felt his heart still into a solid form of lead. The only thought echoing in his mind was how could Omi have killed Persia?

"Ken!" The younger boys cry broke the silence, and he lurched to his feat, reaching towards the boy in the doorway. "What happened to him? Why isn't he moving?"

And Ken watched impassively as Omi reached for him. He couldn't even begin to grasp any words to say.

Aya had said Omi sucked the life out of the people he had known and Persia had acted like he was familiar with him. The picture of Omi leaning over the dead body flashed in his mind. Ken didn't want to believe that the innocent boy reaching for him could do such a thing. But right now there was no other information and his mind accepted what he had fabricated as truth even as his heart ached.

Omi had killed Persia, avertedly or in avertedly and either result was the same.

Ken found himself frowning at the other boy, knowing he was talking yet not hearing the words that spilled from his own mouth. "I should be asking you that shouldn`t I Omi? You killed him didn't you?"

"What?" The boy stepped backwards, his eyes taking on a startled doe-like quality. "W-what are you talking about? Have you been talking to someone?"

"What does it matter, Omi? I know all about everything now." His voice was harsh and detached as he made the blunt lie. He didn't know, didn't know everything but he couldn't ask now. "How could you do that to him Omi? He was just a nice old man!" Ken's voice rose sharply. "Why did you kill them?"

The blonds eyes had widened and starred unfocusedly at Ken, his mind whirling as he legs buckled underneath him. "But I didn`t. I didn`t hurt anyone...."

Ken laughed, its dead tone echoing off the walls. "I`ve been told everything, you don`t need to lie to me anymore." He turned to leave and felt a hand grab his pants leg.

"Please Ken. I didn`t kill them. I didn`t!" The picture boy's eyes pleaded with his own, but Ken only felt hallow when he looked into those eyes (2). "Listen to me. Please? I love you, please just listen to me!"

Ken shook off the hand and left the room.

***

It had been two days. Two days sense Persia had died and two days sense Ken had seen Omi outside of the painting. Because he did go back. The next day he had rushed back the gallery to try and to apologize, but the boy never came out of the picture, he instead stared sorrowfully back at him from the canvas making Ken's insides twist painfully.

It was still raining. The icy sheets drenching the few people who arrived at the wake, a wake with no body insight and no tears. That was how Persia wanted it though. Just a few people who he knew meeting at his gallery to pay their last respects before his ashes were scattered.

There were five in all or six if you counted Omi, who never left his privet world and only expression leaking threw the picture was anguish.

Yohji had come, his normal shades absent and face serous; Manx was wearing a black version of her normal cloths and offering coffee and tea to the rest, and Aya had come though his damned smirk never left his face. The last, not counting himself, was a tall man with black hair and glasses wearing a light yellow suit. For what reason that man was here no one knew but he quietly glanced at the pictures and politely accepted the tea Manx offered.

The gallery was quiet, except for the shuffle of feat and soon it became apparent that no one else was going to arrive.

The man in the suit turned around and surveyed the people gathered around the room. Clearing his throat he started, his voice calm. "I`m sorry to interrupt but I am here to read Persia`s Will. If you all could sit somewhere I will read off the names and what will be left to you."

Everyone stopped for a moment before slowly taking a seat. Yohji was the last one ready, snagging a chair on the wall and flipping it around so that he could sit on it backwards, smiling a slightly forced version of his sleepy grin he asked, "So, what's in this Will of his?"(3)

Which caused Yohji to get a pair of dirty looks before the man in front of them pushed his glasses up with a finger and took a piece of paper from his breast pocket. He cleared his throat one last time before starting to read off the Will in monotone. "The gallery is here by left to Manx in hopes that she will find someone suited to maintain it and keep it as it should be. You have always been my most dedicated employee and I know you understand without me having to tell you how much your working with me has meant. I thank you and hope you have a wonderful life."

"I leave Omi with the person who I have left the hammock picture, please take care of him because he knows not what life is like in this new age. I plead with who is to receive him that you take care of him and protect him from the things that wish him out of existence."

"To Yohji, I leave you a job here whenever you would like one as well as two pieces of art of your choice. You actually oiled the doors so you deserve it."

"To Aya," The redheads head shot up from its half bowed, listless, position. "I leave you nothing. You and your father before you no not how to let go so I hope you will take the time you have now to learn. Everything you believe is only a half truth, find out the entire circumstances and you may grow to understand the steps that have been taken."

"To Ken," His heart pounded. "I leave you the Hammock Picture. Take care of him as I know you will."

Ken swallowed hard and looked over at the picture, which hadn't moved. He now had Omi, the place that held him captive, but how did the other boy feel about him now? Ken had blown up at him, not listened and pushed him away when he was venerable. There was no way Omi would agree to this now.

"This ends my will. The money left will go to charities. My God send you."

The man placed the paper back in his pocket and turned to leave, no one stopped him and no one moved (4). And it was in that moment of hesitation and silence that Aya straightened and looked right at the hammock picture, his gaze cold and detached as he rushed at it a blur of silver glinting in dimmed lighting and the sound of ripping canvas consumed the formally silent room.

There was a thud and a snack and the next anyone knew the picture was on the floor and Aya was stumbling back holding his nose. Ken's fist was still in the air and he blinked as he realized he had moved without thinking about it.

Trembling fingers reached towards the canvas and slowly turned it over. The hammock was empty a tear running vertically down it and not a trace of the boy inside. He thought it was his eyes tearing that started it, the subtle darkening and fading of the colors, but soon he could tell it wasn't. It was fading. The picture was fading. And somewhere someone screamed. A high, pain filled gasp that came from another wing.

Ken wasn't the first one there, but it didn't matter. He could see in the corner of the other gallery the small body that pressed itself away from the concern faces Yohji and Manx.

Shoving them away and ignoring their protests he picked the boy up and ran a hand down his ashen face. His hair and eyes were dull and face as pale as marble. It looked as if he, like the painting, were fading.

The younger boy whimpered and pushed against Ken, a week attempt to push him away but it didn't work. So tears spilled out of lifeless eyes and Ken felt his heart twists and tears fill his own.

"I`m sorry." The voice was fragile and as lifeless as the boy's eyes. "I didn`t do it. I`m sorry."

"Shh...Omi. Its alright, just relax we can talk about his later ok?" Ken brushed the blond hair from his eyes. "Just hold on, everything's going to be just fine..."

Omi's lips moved silently as his little body shook violently as a gash appeared on his chest, red blood spilling onto the light blue-green carpet and drenching Ken's cloths.

And then, almost as if it had never happened, Omi disappeared, vanishing into thin air. No blood lingered and no impressions lasting.

It was then that Aya's laughter boomed across the room and Ken fell to his knees, his hands going on either side to brace himself. Yohji and Manx stood frozen on the either side of him, unable to find a comforting word or make sense of what had just occurred in front of them.

But Ken knew. Omi was gone. He never had the chance to apologize and now he never would.

***

1. His sister is now older then him makes more sense for the full story/plot.

2. *sighs* First, I did not write out the entire conversation Ken and Aya had. Second Ken's learned so much this past few hours and now thinks what he was told was right (which it is to some extent) and feels very betrayed by Omi's actions (which really weren't) so his mind's kinda gone blank. He's obviously not thinking, is he? Bad Ken no cookie for you!

3. Look! Yohji said something! >.<;; he hasn't said anything the entire story so I felt I should let him say something.

4. That would be Crawford, he has basically no part in the story but I needed someone to be the person to read the Will and I thought he'd do it better then say, Farfarello.