FATE - A Weiss Kreuz Fanfiction

FATE 

It was a perfectly normal day when Aya met his fate.

Young school girls who screamed as if they were meeting some kind of famous rock star, unfriendly customers with maddening fancy orders, annoying chit chat, a little blood cleansing – reddish stains on leather and steel weren´t really his style – and no mission to distract himself. Nothing out of the ordinary. Insane, oh yes, fucked up, no doubt, but nothing new.

Until Aya met Yohji.

Aya didn´t believe in soul mates. He certainly loved his sister dearly and she was the one person who knew him in and out, he could trust her with everything – but they were just too different to be “soulmates”. And if his beloved sister was different, then Kudoh Yohji was from another fucking universe.

It wasn´t that Aya found Yohji´s ways of flirting, smoking and drinking bad or primitive – hell, how could one murderer judge another? No, it was just the fact that Yohji and Aya did not really get each other. Of course they shared their every day life – and their not so legal nocturnal occupation – and they even cared for each other in a special way – saving each other´s life could do that to people – but they would never go as far as trying to understand each other. Aya didn´t take any interest in whatever Yohji did in his free time and vice versa. They co-existed like that for years until it all should change in one second.

That wasn´t unexpected, after all killing together was quite a weird and strangely strong bond. It was just too ironic that it should happen on a day like that.

Later Aya would say that it was all Yohji´s fault. Yohji would counter that Aya was the one who reacted against his nature. The  others just would ignore the bickering and smile.

But all that didn´t matter to Aya on that fateful day – mainly because he didn´t know of the following events.

In fact Aya didn´t know anything at the moment. No, he had better things to do – like bathing in the sight that was Kudoh Yohji. It was no secret that said blond cared more for his beauty than most men did. Even a fucked-up Yohji had this air of “designer” and “used and destroyed look”, “vintage” or whatever it was.

Therefore new and shiny clothes or a new hair style were to be expected.

But on that special day something very unusual happened. Yohji got sick. 

Not “god am I hangover” sick and not “sleep deprivation doesn´t do me any good” sick. No, it was a perfectly normal cold.

And that was the reason why Aya, as he entered Yohji´s bed room, was greeted by an unbelievable sight. Blond curls were dark with sweat and hung messily around a pale face with a red nose. If Aya weren´t as dead serious as he was known to be he surely would´ve cracked a joke about “Yohji the red-nosed playboy”.

But Aya just gaped.

Dark shadows underlined bloodshot, puffy eyes. The nose was not only red, but running as well. The carefully tanned  body was clad in very old pink sweat pants and a large blue sweater.The throat was warmed by a long and apparently soft green scarf. Warm, self-knitted socks completed the picture.

It was a sight of sickness, messiness and misery. A display of weakness. It was everything that Kudoh Yohji was and everything that he wasn´t.

It was utterly beautiful.

Aya stared.

Even in literally life-or-death situations had he never seen his teammate so honest, so simple, so undisguised.

This was plain Yohji - and Aya was absolutely intrigued.

He couldn´t describe it, hell, he didn´t even know what the fuck was going on. In one minute he was his usual uncaring, composed self, in the next moment he found himself totally fixated on Yohji and Yohji alone.

In this second Aya understood.

This man was it.

“It” could be lover, friend, partner, mate, even soul mate. Labels and terms didn´t have any meaning anymore. They would merely veil the true implications of that moment.

Because Aya knew that he had – out of the blue – found the one person he was eternally tied to, the person he would always share his life with in any way.

And that was the reason why he silently went to the kitchen, brewed fresh tea and some hot soup, grabbed some meds and hurried back to Yohji. Curing sickness was something he hadn´t done since Aya-chan was taken from him, but this was special.

And so he simply took a blanket, snuggled up against Yohji and held him in the throws of coughs and fever. Everyone needed someone who – at least from time to time – protected him against the whole world.

Aya just decided that he was that someone for Yohji.

And years later he  could admit that even despite all his complaints, he couldn´t have chosen anyone else.