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Monday, June 7th, 2004

Subject:Fashion Disaster
Posted by:clawsforthought.
Time:2:42 am.
Mood: amused.
Ken stood outside the door to Takatori's office, flanked by two security guards, and sighed as he glanced at their ties and noticed that they were both matching tartan.

"I'm going to have to have a word with your boss about your outfits, boys," he drawled, as they opened the doors for him and ushered him inside. Takatori's office was light and spacious, but Ken's eyes were immediately drawn to the painting of a can of soup and the patchwork iguana that was behind the pot plant in one corner of the room. It was lucky that he was only being commisioned to make over a person, because he had a suspicion that he'd have to methodically replace everything in the office if he were giving that a makeover too. The desk was in the wrong feng shui area for starters, and if Takatori thought he could still get away with the beige '80s wallpaper, then he was quite clearly a deluded fool.

Actually, seeing those sideburns in the flesh confirmed that Takatori was, indeed, a deluded fool. However, Ken managed to restrain himself from making this observation out loud, and instead shook the hand that was offered him, noting that the cufflinks that were peeking out from under the suit jacket looked like they had come as a gift from a Christmas cracker. This was going to be a tough job, but if any fashion-conscious dapper assassin was man enough for it, Hidaka Ken was!

After the proper introductions were made, Ken set his hot pink supply bag down, took a step backwards, and gazed critically at Takatori's sideburns for a few moments before saying, "Reiji, love, those are really going to have to go. It would be a crime against fashion to let their suffering continue any longer than absolutely necessary!" With a sadistic glint in his eyes, he reached down into his bag and pulled out an electric razor that had sequins glued to it in a swirly pattern.
Comments: Read 7 orAdd Your Own.

Sunday, May 23rd, 2004

Subject:Working it out...
Posted by:kawaii_omikun.
Time:11:20 pm.
Mood: artistic.
Omi started, and realised that he'd been muttering under his breath without his knowledge.

Oh dear, I'm going mad...

He was standing outside Ken's bedroom door. He knew that his friend was in because the door was ajar, as Ken always kept it when he was home. The reason Omi was currently dithering was because for once in his relatively short life, he wasn't sure about something.

He had to be sure about things usually. He was the decision maker, the mission researcher. He was sure about things. He was always sure about things.

He was, he realised, becoming increasingly unsure about people. Aya had been slightly off during the mission, but Ken had explained that as being due to Yohji. Omi now knew about events that had transpired between Aya and the blonde playboy, but had not brought it up, seeing as it was none of his business.

All this... was odd. Omi didn't know if it was a good thing either... It was mucking around with the workings of the group... It could endanger them, if the worst came to the worst.

Yohji hadn't been having a smooth ride recently.... he'd been more snappy than usual in response to Ken's teasing. Omi had, not in a nasty way, been trying to distance himself a little from the older man recently. He didn't particularly want to be in Yohji's way when he was on the warpath for whatever reason.

Ken had always been Omi's closest friend out of Weiss. Whether that was due to his open and friendly personality or the small gap in their ages Omi didn't know, but it was true. There had been so many fun times. Heh. he owed it to Ken to be honest about... about something so important...

He took a breath... Gosh, he really was pathetic, he thought.

He pushed away from the wall, pulled nervously on his t-hirt a little, and the knocked on the half-open door.
Comments: Read 1 orAdd Your Own.

Monday, May 17th, 2004

Subject:Mission...
Posted by:abyscynian.
Time:3:08 pm.
Mood: working.
Sighing softly, Aya ran a hand through his deep red hair. He leant forwards onto the steering wheel of his car, resting his chin on his leather encased fingers. The redhead had been parked on the main dock at Tokyo Harbour for more than an hour now. The ship that Kritiker suspected of carrying a human cargo of over a hundred and fifty girls destined to be slaves, had berthed right on schedule. Aya was waiting for the appearance of Weiss' target, Aeru Yuki.

Aya took a deep breath and then regretted it; he could still smell the faint aroma of tobacco... Yohji. He had been Aya's partner on the last surveillance job, this time the redhead was alone. He wasn't even sure where Yohji was right now and as hard as he tried to convince himself he didn't care. He did.

Violet eyes narrowed; to distract himself and focus back on the mission, Aya leant back in the seat again and checked in with Ken and Omi using his headset. Both confirmed that they had not sighted the target either but before Aya cut transmission, he found himself asking, "Omi, did you contact Yohji about the mission?"
Comments: Read 10 orAdd Your Own.

Tuesday, May 4th, 2004

Subject:Hurt... comfort...
Posted by:abyscynian.
Time:11:22 pm.
Mood: tired.
Aya sat numb, the brutal rage he had seen in Yohji's eyes when he screamed had shaken the redhead badly. The sound had ripped through his heart as his own doubts about deserving a happy ending with the man he loved unconditionally rose up and threatened to overwhelm him. Aya could feel his natural defences kicking in, his mind distancing itself from the raw pain, blocking it off, as he raised his head to watch Yohji do what he had feared the most...

Leave.

A deep, aching sorrow interlaced with confusion filled the void left in Aya's heart as he watched the door swing backwards and forwards due to the force with which it had been opened.

Why had Yohji gone after he had said he would never leave? Was the thought of spending his life with just one person too much for the blonde to bear? Or had the fact that Aya had stepped down off the pedestal the older man had placed him on made Yohji realise that his love for the redhead was not real?

With that thought, Aya's defences failed once more and the floodgates opened, releasing all of the pent up emotion from the evening. Drowning, yet welcoming it, Aya put his head on his knees and wrapped his arms around his drawn up legs and cried until he was exhausted.

When the sobs turned to hiccups Aya became aware of his surroundings again. He was cold. Aya stood, wiping his eyes, then quickly walked over to grab a long sleeved t-shirt off a nearby chair. He put it on and then stepped out into the hall after surveying the damage to his door. Aya felt completely dispassionate now, as if everything that had happened with Yohji had happened to someone else.

The redhead knew he should clear up the shattered glass and water but first he wanted to check on Ken. Aya didn't know the ins and outs of what had brought Yohji and Ken together tonight and he didn't want to know, but he had to make sure that Ken was alright for the sake of the team, for Weiss.

Aya made his way to Yohji's room, stepping carefully around the broken glass as his feet were still bare. The door was open; Ken was all tangled up in the bed clothes just staring into space.

Aya padded softly over to the bed and gently shook Ken's shoulder whispering his name. Ken turned obviously still dazed but when he saw Aya, a look of panic crossed his face.
Comments: Read 10 orAdd Your Own.

Monday, May 3rd, 2004

Subject:Sex and Sheepskin...
Posted by:toosexyforweiss.
Time:4:14 am.
Mood: accomplished.

Boot-clad feet smacked fiercely against cold concrete; every step ringing out like a gunshot in the quiet night. Yohji was running blind, his eyes fixed in a dead stare, sweat pouring down his brow. His chest was tight, and every few steps his body reminded him of the need to inhale; the resulting breath sucked in through gritted teeth.

Some miles back, Yohji had stopped thinking; his mind so paralysed by pain that it had shut down in a vain attempt at self-preservation. The tall shell of a human being that was left tore down the pavement, desperately trying to outrun the impossible; his own demons, his mind, himself.

Fleeing across a two-lane road without so much as a cautionary glance, the blonde received several fierce blasts on a horn. Shocked passers-by gaped in horror as a truck narrowly missed ploughing Yohji into a pulp. He didn't flinch; not at the truck, or the murmurs, or the blinding pain in his side that told him if he didn't stop running he was likely to collapse.

Among the fellow creatures that emerged at night, Yohji didn't look out of place. Sunglasses sat high on his nose, masking his eyes. He looked akin to the ranks of prostitutes, pimps, and drug-dealers that were sprawled under the soft neon lights of the teeming nightclubs. He was faceless, nameless, and with only one need; escape, just like every other John and druggie that cluttered the streets.

In his haste to leave the Koneko, Yohji had tugged on some boots, and grabbed the first piece of clothing hanging by the door; luckily his own. The navy mission-coat flapped wildly in the breeze, exposing his midriff to the cool night air and causing a plethora of goosebumps to rise up against the honey-coloured skin. Passing club after club, the heavy bassline that thrummed from his regular haunts thudded in his ears; the only part of the outside world reaching him.

The clubs were becoming less frequent now, and Yohji surmised vaguely that he was in the more expensive end of the city. Flashes of green foliage broke up the brash strobe lighting, and Yohji's keen eyes spotted a park in the distance. Deciding that was his destination, Yohji failed to give a second-glance to an exotic-looking dancer who was draped across a burly doorman; a blatant advertisment for the services offered inside the high-class establishment.

Catching a glimpse of the blonde streaking past, the whites of her eyes widened, bright against her coffee-coloured skin. In a voice loud enough to rouse all of Tokyo, she shrieked, "YOHJI! Aren't you stopping for a dance?" The shrill call shattered the reverie Yohji was in, and in a moment of blind hope, he had prayed the voice belonged to Aya. It didn't matter that it was a woman, or that Aya would sooner die than say such things, but the small part of Yohji's heart that burned with love for the redhead had hoped that Aya may have followed him.

Slowing his pace, Yohji darted green eyes over his shoulder. Seeing the glitter-encrusted dancer fade away into the distance, he faltered. For a desperate moment, Yohji considered going back. He was known in the clubs; accepted. He could lose himself in the throng of writhing bodies on the dancefloor; he could drink himself into oblivion. But, his barely-lucid mind admonished, he'd still wake up tomorrow the person he was now. Still the same Yohji. The first coherent thought to emerge since he had left Aya sickened him to the stomach. He didn't want to be Yohji anymore. He didn't want to be anyone. He just wanted to run.

Eyes swivelling back to the expanse of green ahead, Yohji vaulted a low fence; heavy footfalls changing to muffled thumps, as he darted across soft grass. The faint drumbeat from the nightclub faded into the distance, and was replaced by the equally fierce pounding of Yohji's heart. The park was silent, and dimly lit; the only noticeable feature a white, marble fountain dominating the horizon. The faint scent of the Sakura trees made the air heady, and Yohji suddenly began to feel clammy and all-too-warm. Becoming more aware of the searing pain in his side, Yohji slowed his pace into a fast walk; breath coming in violent gasps. If he could just make it to the fountain, he heard himself think; his mind slowly moving away from the state of total paralysis and into vaguely coherent thought.

As the tall blonde stumbled the last few steps towards the imposing structure, the pain in his ribs began to subside, and was replaced by a wave of mental anguish so heavy it threatened to drown him. This, Yohji thought, trying to choke back a sob, was a poor time to start feeling again.

The tall figure sat unceremoniously on the side of the fountain, and rested his head in his hands. Allowing himself a moment to still his mind, Yohji sucked in a cool, cleansing breath, and tugged off his sunglasses. Leaning back, Yohji arched the tense muscles of his back, and rolled his head backwards. Every part of him was aching, and the physical and mental ache was becoming harder to tell apart. Stumbling to his feet, Yohji tugged off his coat and let it fall to the ground. Dropping to his knees, Yohji took a cautionary glance around, before throwing his head, face first, into the freezing water of the fountain.

Emerging seconds later, Yohji flung back his head; the ice-cold rivulets of water snaking down his back, chest and sides causing him to hiss softly. Slicking back his hair, Yohji remained kneeling, allowing the coldness of the water to ground him. Standing slowly, the blonde tugged blandly at the T-shirt now clinging to his torso. Jade eyes darted around once more, and, seeing no-one, he yanked the saturated fabric over his head, throwing it into a sodden heap on top of his coat.

Choosing to perch on the edge of the fountain once more, Yohji continued to cup several more handfuls of water into his palm, and let them travel down the planes of his back and chest. The droplets glittered like beads of crystal in the faint light, and became the object of Yohji's fascinated gaze. It was a case of 'think about anything but Aya,' Yohji pondered ruefully, and in the absence of any other distractions, the small droplets would have to do. If only they didn't look so much like tears, Yohji brain told him unhelpfully.

Scowling under his breath, Yohji padded down the trousers he was wearing, hoping to find some smokes. Realising he was wearing the same clothes he had left the Koneko in, his mind helpfully pointed out that his cigarettes and lighter were still in his bedroom. Yohji dropped his head into his hands once more, and massaged his eyes.

Not wanting to think about anything at all, Yohji allowed his mind to drift, content to stare at his feet. Watching with interest as droplets of water fell from his hair and formed patterns on the ground below, Yohji failed to notice the liquid shadow that shifted like a malevolent spirit; or the narrowed eyes scrutinsing him from the shade of a Sakura tree in the distance.
Comments: Read 18 orAdd Your Own.

Monday, April 19th, 2004

Subject:Aya finds out...
Posted by:abyscynian.
Time:7:50 pm.
Mood: crushed.
Aya woke with a start; he reached out into the darkness for the glass of water on his bedside table, only to find that it was empty. He sighed; there was no way he was going to be able to get back to sleep if he was thirsty, so he pushed the bedclothes off and got out of bed.

Dressed only in light cotton pyjama bottoms, Aya shivered as the cool night air hit his naked torso. He grabbed the empty glass and padded, his feet bare, towards the door, not wanting to be out of his warm bed any longer than was necessary. He eased the door open gently so as not to wake his fellow team members and then made his way out into the hallway.

As Aya passed Yohji's room, he heard the distinct sounds of lovemaking and he shook his head ruefully. Yohji must have gone back for that blonde woman after all. Yet despite that whole fiasco during their surveillance operation, Aya wished that he had got to kiss Yohji, had actually had the opportunity to tell Yohji how he felt. But as the noises continued, Aya knew that the pain of being dismissed once Yohji lost interest in him would be unbearable and there was no way Aya could leave Weiss whilst Takatori was alive.

'No, everything worked out for the best,' he told himself firmly, as he went down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Aya turned the light on and then started to run the kitchen tap. If there was one thing he hated, it was lukewarm drinking water. Once he deemed the water to be cold enough, he quickly filled his glass and then walked over to the fridge to see if there was anything to eat. As he did so, he noticed the time... three o'clock. He yanked the fridge door open only to see that unless he wanted beer, he was out of luck. Letting out a frustrated huff, he let the door swing shut. Then he moved to switch off the light again before climbing back up the stairs.

This time as Aya passed Yohji's door, a voice cried out, "Ooohhh, YOHJI!" Aya stopped, frozen with shock, as he realised exactly who the voice belonged to... Ken! The glass of water slipped from Aya's fingers and smashed on the hard wood flooring of the hallway, glass shards skittering away in all directions. The noise brought him to his senses and Aya ran back to his room, barely noticing as a large shard of glass sliced into his foot. When he reached the sanctuary of his room, he slammed the door shut and locked it.
Comments: Read 18 orAdd Your Own.

Friday, April 16th, 2004

Subject:You Can't Always Get What You Want... So You Make Do With What You Can Have.
Posted by:toosexyforweiss.
Time:4:42 am.
Mood: horny.

Yohji sat on his bed, staring down at his feet. Dressed in a slack pair of pants, he tugged nervously at a strand of hair, and chewed anxiously on his lower lip. Less than half an hour ago, he and Ken had been laughing and joking. It had felt good, Yohji mused. He had been relaxed and happy; content to have good company without the complications. But all too soon, Yohji had sensed that familiar tingle in his stomach; the early warning signs of desire, like the small tremors before an earthquake. Dismissing it as nothing more than his usual rampant libido, Yohji had begun to flirt openly with Ken. He expected nothing of it, and had been happy with the playful banter between them.

They had been talking about whipped cream, he recalled, raking a hand through his hair. Furrowing his brow in frustration, he tried to remember how the conversation had been steered into altogether different waters. Yohji remembered joking that he could make Ken come, and had been silenced when Ken had replied a little-too-quietly that he wouldn't mind. Yohji was still in shock, and his mind was still trying to process what had happened.

Ken was.... He had... He wanted... No... He couldn't...

Yohji went back to staring at his toes. It was easier to process in his mind that he still had 10 toes, than what had just happened. What he THOUGHT had happened.

Speechless, he had excused himself and bolted to his room, slamming the door behind him. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and he cursed under his breath as he heard familiar footsteps on the stairs.

There was a soft tapping at the door.

"Come In," Yohji murmured, burying his head in his hands.
Comments: Read 15 orAdd Your Own.

Thursday, April 15th, 2004

Subject:Watching, Waiting...
Posted by:toosexyforweiss.
Time:12:31 am.
Mood: hopeful.

The soft leather of Yohji's pants creaked as he stirred restlessly in the passenger seat of Aya's car. He was bored. They'd been sitting in the same position for 3 hours now, and the air inside the vehicle was getting stale. As the tall blond leaned back in the seat, he blew a perfect smoke ring in the air, before flicking the stub of his last cigarette into the overflowing ashtray. Fumbling in his pockets, Yohji cursed at the now empty packet of cigarettes, and looked around for something to occupy himself with. Aya's violet eyes remained a fixed stare, and if Yohji didn't know that concentrated look, he would have almost assumed that the redhead was daydreaming. Follwing Aya's gaze, Yohji peered at the building they were surveying. No lights. No cars. No movement. He didn't know how Aya could concentrate this long. Tired of the lack of stimulation, Yohji began to drum a rhythmic beat on the roof of the car with his fingers. He was SO bored. Receiving a sidelong glare from Aya, Yohji sighed heavily, and hoisted his feet up onto the dashboard of the car, reclining to a virtually horizontal position. Closing his eyes, he appeared a picture of laziness and nonchalance to Aya's taut concentration. Silence. More silence.

"I spy with my little eye...." Yohji began, before looking round and pondering, a wicked smirk decorating his face. "Something beginning with.... F.'
Comments: Read 10 orAdd Your Own.

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