Disclaimer:

I do not own Weißß Kreuz or any of its characters. I just love them to no end and have a very twisted imagination. Please be aware that I am extremely poor so suing me will do you no good. Thanks.

Warning: Lemon Yaoi - Hints of Yuri / Hardcore Violence & Rape / Explicit Language / Angst / AU

Pairings: Ran x Yohji / Ken + Omi / Birman + Manx

FYI: Inner thoughts - [ Flashback ]

Author's Notes:

Hey everyone, here's the first chapter of Circle of Time. Well, I hope you enjoy this installment. It's an introduction of sorts to our four bishounen in AU mode. I did my best to bring you enough angst and drama in this one.

Well, that's it for now. And don't forget to review. Comments are always appreciated!

Thanks again,

Forsaken

Circle of Time

Yohji Kudou looked at the small piece of paper he was holding in his hand and double checked the address printed on it. Yeah, this is the place. Frowning, he raised his shades up until the dark lenses sat firmly on top of his head over his long honey-blonde hair. His eyes narrowed as he took a better look at the place he would be spending the next two years of his life doing community service.

"A flower shop," he said to himself incredulously. He moved closer to read the name printed on the glass door. The Koneko. Shit, I'm going to be a fucking flower boy. "Great. Just great."

He threw away the cigarette he'd been smoking and stared at the door knowing what he had to do but not wanting to do it. Damn, but I have to go in. Even if it was the last thing he wanted to do, he had to go in there. He'd promised his father. And it was a promise he would never break.

At the age of twelve, Yohji had been a boy already set in his ways having been raised by the biggest bastard to ever walk among men. But for Yohji, Lt. Shiro Kudou was the man who'd truly raised him, the man who'd taught him how to behave like a decent human being, the man who truly deserved to be called 'Father'. Yohji owed his father not only his life but his respect as well and that meant keeping his word no matter how much it pained him to do so.Dammit, when the hell did I become so damn responsible?

Taking a deep breath, Yohji shoved a hand into his leather jacket and reached for the door with the other. The fragrant aroma of flowers assailed his senses the instant he opened the door and he winced when the bell above his head rang loudly announcing his arrival. Heads turned to look his way and Yohji fought down the urge to run back out the way he'd come. He hated being the center of attention; the need to go unnoticed an ingrained part of his being.

An attractive redhead dressed in a red business suit approached him and Yohji resigned himself to his fate.

"You must be Yohji Kudou."

"Yeah, that's me," he replied with wary eyes. She seemed like an okay person but Yohji had learned long ago that looks could be deceiving. "You can call me Yohji."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Yohji. I'm Manx and..." Manx motioned toward a gorgeous brunette standing across the room. "She's Birman."

Yohji nodded in greeting at the other woman and had to admit that he was impressed by the tough-as-nails look Birman was giving him. Not that Manx looked any less authoritative. The realization had Yohji sighing inwardly. He was in for a rough two years.

"Please take a seat, Yohji," said Manx as she lead Yohji further into the room to where three other young men sat quietly in a semi-circle.

Yohji hesitated a second before he proceeded to walk toward an empty seat.

"Birman and I are going to get some paperwork ready," Manx stated to the four of them. "Please introduce yourselves and get acquainted in the meantime."

The two women walked out of the room just as Yohji dropped his lanky frame into a seat next to a kid with big blue eyes and light brown hair. The boy smiled at him and Yohji felt as if he were looking at an angel.

"Hi, I'm Omi Tsukiyono."

Yohji grinned at the teen, liking the kid's obvious friendly nature. "Yohji. Yohji Kudou."

A movement caught his eye and Yohji noticed for the first time the other boy sitting to Omi's left. The brunette was shaking his leg in an obvious show of impatience as he stared at the floor. Omi gently tapped the other boy's shoulder and a pair of blue-green eyes shifted to gaze at him.

"Ken Hidaka," was all the teen grumbled before the brunette shifted his gaze back to the floor.

Yohji nodded in acknowledgement and bit back a smile, figuring that Hidaka wanted to high tail it out of the room. I know the feeling, kid. Remembering that he had seen one more person sitting in their small circle, Yohji glanced over to his right.

His emerald gaze widened as he locked onto the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen. They were the color of sparkling amethysts, cold and distant under brows as red as blood. The violet orbs stared at him from a face as smooth and white as porcelain, framed by a glorious crimson mane. Shit, he's gorgeous.

"He's Ran Fujimiya," Omi informed him having seen where Yohji's eyes had settled. "He doesn't like to talk much."

Ran blinked once at them, not saying a word, before he turned his head to stare out of one of the shop's large display windows.

Yohji's gaze roamed over the redhead, taking note of the silent teen's slender but sleek form underneath the dark blue jeans and white T-shirt he was wearing. I wonder how old he is?

His thoughts were interrupted when Manx and Birman walked back into the room, both holding a few stacks of papers in their hands. Manx placed a stack on the table in front of him and Birman moved to stand beside her.

"These forms are the final set of legal documents needed to enroll you into this program," Manx said as she placed a hand on top of the forms facing the four of them. "You must read each page thoroughly before signing the agreement on the final page."

Birman stepped forward and began distributing the forms. Yohji couldn't help but admire the brunette's compact body as she walked toward him. Birman caught Yohji's stare and raised one of her winged eyebrows, giving him a what-are-you-looking-at look.

Embarrassed but not willing to let it show, Yohji grinned slyly at the woman as she handed him his paperwork. The corner of Birman's lips curled just a bit but it was enough to let Yohji know that the woman wasn't a total stiff.

He looked down at the sheets in his hands and quickly skimmed through the stapled sheets. Yohji frowned when he noticed his father's signature on the very last page. A surge of guilt went through him as his finger traced the almost illegible signature. I really fucked up this time, didn't I, Dad?

The last thing he'd wanted was to embarrass his father with his screw-ups, to see the look of disappointment in his father's eyes. Yohji winced as he remembered the look on his father's face that day he'd been brought into the station for hitting his prick of a teacher. A mixture of disappointment, anger and resigned frustration had been written clearly on his father's weathered face.

Yohji sighed as he continued to stare at the sheet in his hand. He'd felt like a first-class asshole that day. He still did. His father had done so much for him. Given him a decent roof over his head, provided him with food and clothes, blessed him with a life Yohji knew he didn't deserve. And how had he repaid the man? By fucking up whenever he got the chance.

Yohji knew that his father loved him. Loved him and forgave him for all of stupid things that he did. But how much more could the man take? I've caused him nothing but trouble. I don't even know why he puts up with me.

Trouble seemed to follow Yohji no matter what he did to try to avoid it. The incident with his English teacher a week ago was a perfect example of that.

He'd tried, really tried to avoid Mr. Kamiya ever since he'd noticed how the older man would stare at him during class. He knew that look all too well and it had been enough to cause a chill to run up his spine. That look was a reminder of a world he'd long tried to forget, a look that at one time had led to more than mere touches but to humiliation and pain as well. So he'd kept avoiding the man, not looking at him, not speaking to him. He'd even cut class once in a while just to avoid seeing the man altogether. But the fucker got to me anyway.

Yohji closed his eyes briefly as he remembered how Mr. Kamiya had asked him to stay after class that fateful day to 'discuss' something with him. He had tried to stay calm, tried to give his teacher the benefit of the doubt as the man had approached him. But as soon as his back had hit the wall behind him, Yohji had known he was in trouble.

Large hands had wrapped around his waist pulling him forward as rough lips crushed onto his own and instinct had taken over. Yohji had handled the situation the only way he'd been able to. He'd swung a fist with all of his might and knocked the shit out of the guy.

He should've gone to jail, not me. But like an ass, Yohji hadn't revealed to anyone why he'd attacked his teacher. He'd wanted to, especially to his father but he hadn't been able to. It was too private, too close to the world he'd once been a part of for Yohji to talk about. Besides, with the exception of his father, no one would probably believe him anyway. He was trash, a troublemaker. It would just be another lie to add to the list.

Yohji sighed again as he flipped back to the first page. And now I'm stuck for two years pushing flowers. Life was a real joke sometimes.

"Now," he heard Manx say as she began to hand out the stack she'd been carrying, "To give you a better idea of what this program will be about, these next set of papers will provide you with a breakdown of the program's schedule."

Yohji's jade eyes perused the list he'd been handed and frowned as he came across the counseling section of the program. A mixture of apprehension and anger ran through him at the thought of having to discuss his personal life with a pair of strangers. There was even a group session scheduled for once a week that he would have to endure.Shit. No fucking way.

Although he tried to stay calm, his panicked thoughts made it impossible for him to relax. Yohji could feel his heart beginning to beat rapidly against his chest and his breathing quicken. The papers wrinkled in his hand as it clenched unconsciously and it took all of Yohji's control not to crumple the white sheets into a ball. Calm down, dammit! Calm the fuck down.

But he couldn't. Flashes of memory began to flood his mind and Yohji brought a hand up to his temple. Taking a deep breath, Yohji attempted to dispel the horrifying images of his past, but his mental barriers refused to stand firmly in place, refused to shield him from the pain. Dammit, not now.

He'd had these flashes before making him experience moments of panic and fear, but this was the first time that the memories had taken a hold of him in the presence of others. He couldn't afford to have all of these people witness his moment of weakness. I can't. I can't let them see.

He stood up, a little to quickly, and turned to the redhead now standing in front of the violet-eyed teen he'd been admiring before. "I have to use the bathroom."

Manx looked at him and for a horrifying second, Yohji thought that the woman could tell that he was losing it. But fortunately for him, the green-eyed woman just pointed to a door in the back and said, "There's a washroom right through that door."

"Thanks," he said gratefully and without preamble, hurried toward the back. He probably looked like an idiot with a bladder problem. Jeez, great first impression, Kudou. It really didn't matter though. He had to get away from all of them.

Entering the room Manx had indicated, Yohji's eyes roamed around the surprisingly large and tidy area obviously used for storage and latched onto the bathroom door to his far left. Rushing through the door, pausing only a moment to lock it, Yohji bent over the small white sink, hands on the rim and stared down at the faucet.

His emerald eyes clouded as the memories he'd been trying to avoid overpowered him, capturing him in an unbreakable grip.

[ "But Papa, it hurts. I don't want to do it anymore. Please, Papa," Yohji cried, tears tracking down his small face as he begged his father to listen to him. A hard slap to his face sent him sprawling onto the floor, his head hitting the wall behind him with a loud thump.

"Shut the fuck up!" his father bellowed as he kicked Yohji's legs viciously, wrenching a pained whimper from the boy. "I don't want to hear anymore of your shit."

The burly man bent down and grabbed Yohji by the collar of his ragged cotton T-shirt, lifting Yohji's small form up in the air with one hand. Yohji winced as he was shoved harshly against the wall and his eyes widened in fear as he stared into his father's terrifying black eyes.

"You've got one more customer for the night," his father said angrily as the man tightened his grip over Yohji's collar, pushing his meaty fist into Yohji's throat. "And you'd better fucking give him his money's worth."

Yohji winced and brought his hands up to pull at his father's hand, a hand that was now choking him. "Papa, let go," he pleaded hoarsely as he fought for air. His legs began to kick out in desperation and for a split second, Yohji thought that his father would finally kill him. But suddenly he was released and Yohji fell hard to the floor, gasping for air.

"Fuck this up you little asshole and I'll finish you for good next time. You hear me, boy?"

Too terrified to look up and unable to speak past the pain burning in his throat, Yohji nodded quickly in compliance.

"Good," he heard his father say as the man stepped away from him. "You've got ten minutes. Go clean yourself up. You're a fucking mess."

Yohji didn't bother to respond. He heard his father walk away and close the door to his room, leaving him panting and shaking on the floor. Slowly, he sat up and pushed his back against the wall for support. He knew he had to move but he just couldn't. Not yet. He hurt too much.

Tears began to run down his pale face as sadness and anger intermingled within him. Why? Why did his life have to be so fucked up? He felt alone, lost...dirty. "Why, Papa?" Yohji whispered in the now silent room as he stared at the closed door in front of him. "Why?" ]

"Dammit," Yohji cursed as he felt tears trailing down his cheeks and shook his head desperately trying to ward away the memories that still managed to haunt him. Leaning forward, he opened the faucet and splashed water over his face.

Face dripping with water, Yohji closed the faucet and tried to calm his breathing. He was trembling now and feeling sick to his stomach. God, I think I'm going to throw up.

He clamped a hand over his mouth and swallowed several times as he fought back the nausea. Unable to hold back the need to retch any longer, Yohji fell to his knees in front of the white toilet next to the sink. He grabbed onto the rim of the toilet bowl and threw up the moment he leaned into it.

A knock sounded on the door a few minutes later and Yohji's eyes flew open. "Yeah," he said, his voice sounding hoarse and raw from all of the vomiting. He reached over and ripped a large piece of toilet paper from the dispenser and wiped his mouth with it.

"Uh, sorry. Manx wanted to know if you were alright."

Yohji's eyes widened the instant he heard the deep voice coming from the other side of the door. It didn't sound like the Omi or the Hidaka kid. Oh, shit. It had to be Fujimiya. He couldn't let the guy see him like this. Yohji made himself stand and replied, "I'm okay. I'll be out in a minute."

Yohji moved to the sink and opened the faucet so that he could rinse out his mouth. When he was done, Yohji looked down to his left at the small gap underneath the door and saw the shadow of Ran's feet playing across the floor.

Shit, why is he still there?

++++++

Omi finished reading the forms he'd been given and set them down on his lap. He sighed and ran a hand through his light brown hair. He really couldn't believe how complicated his life had become. One irrational decision had totally screwed up his life. Nothing knew there. My life's always been screwed up.

He'd been adopted at the age of four by a wealthy family and had been given a life full of clout and privilege. Everything he could have ever wanted had been placed in his lap. Everything except love.

Omi looked over to his right with sad eyes and stared out of the large display window he was sitting near. Cars and pedestrians passed by, but Omi didn't take notice of the outside world as his mind drifted far away.

His father, Saito Tsukiyono, the man who'd adopted and raised him expected the best out of him. A day didn't pass by that Omi wasn't reminded of how much he owed the Tsukiyono family. His education, his whole upbringing had been solely based on the hopes of Omi growing up into a respectable and worthy man capable of continuing the Tsukiyono line and ensuring the success of the family empire.

And he had lived up to those expectations up until his escapade in school three weeks ago.

Omi brought a hand up to his face still able to feel the sting from the backhand his father had given him that day after he'd walked into his father's office with a police officer right behind him. His father had already been informed of the situation even before Omi had arrived and had been absolutely furious with him.

Omi had never been so scared of his father as he had been that day. There had been times when he'd seen his father's temper stir beneath the man's normally calm exterior giving Omi cause to fear disobeying him in any way, but that day had been the first time he'd seen his father lose control. Omi crossed his arms and tucked his hands in between them. He never wanted to see his father like that again. He doubted very much that he'd fair as well as he had the last time around.

"Omi?"

Hearing his name, Omi turned his head and swallowed as Ken stood just a few feet away. Jeez, he's cute. Shit, open your mouth, you moron. Stop staring at the guy and say something. "Yes, Ken?" his voice cracked and Omi nearly died from embarrassment. Damn, I sounded like a girl.

He felt his heart rate begin to race as his long time crush walked closer toward him. Oh God, he's coming over here. Okay, act cool. Don't make a fool out of yourself. Ken sat next him and Omi had to fight back the urge to squirm. He was so nervous that he needed to use the bathroom all of a sudden. Hold it in, dammit! Christ, you're such a baby.

"I don't mean to pry, but……well, are you okay?" Ken asked, his blue-green eyes full of concern as they gazed at Omi.

A little stunned by the question, Omi stared at him for a few seconds before he finally found his voice and managed only to say, "What?"

"Well, you were looking so sad that I thought something was wrong. I'm sorry I didn't mean to be nosey."

Obviously uncomfortable, Ken moved to get up. Without thinking, Omi reached out and grab Ken's wrist stopping the teen's retreat. "No. Don't go." Oh my God, I can't believe I just did that. Shit, I can't believe he actually noticed me let alone felt worried about me.

Ken sat back down and looked expectantly at Omi. Omi swallowed again and prayed to God that he wouldn't put his foot in his mouth. "You weren't being nosey. It's just that……" Omi looked away for a second before shifting his blue gaze back onto Ken. "It's just that this program and the trouble I'm in now is getting to me, you know?"

Ken nodded his head and grinned. "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's been a nightmare for me too. I'm a wreck over this whole thing."

He understands and he feels like I do. Elated, Omi smiled at Ken feeling as if he had finally found someone he could talk to, really talk to. "Yeah, me too. And knowing that my dad is really pissed off at me isn't helping any."

Ken winced and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, my grandparents aren't happy with me either. They still can't believe what I did." Ken sighed and turned away to look over at the two women conferring at the table a few feet away. "They're disappointed in me. And I hate it."

I know all too well what you mean, Ken. All too well. Omi nudged Ken's shoulder and the brunette turned back toward him. Omi smiled and hoped the cheerfulness he often pretended to feel did its magic once again. "Don't worry, Ken. Yeah, we fucked up, but you know what?" Ken shook his head at him, waiting for Omi to finish. "We'll make it up to them. We'll get past this program and make it up to them. And everything will be alright, Ken. I just know it will."

Ken smiled but Omi could see that the brunette wasn't entirely convinced. Neither am I. But I have to believe it'll all be okay. It's all I have left.

++++++

Ran stood near the bathroom door waiting for the blonde on the other side to emerge. He didn't know why he was still here. The Manx woman had told him to find out if Kudou was alright and he had. So why the hell am I standing here like an idiot?

But Ran knew why. He'd heard the retching noises the blonde had been making as he'd walked up to the door. He'd stopped short of knocking on the door, not sure whether he should intrude or not, but for some reason the awful sounds emanating from the bathroom had prompted him to knock anyway. Knowing that the blonde was puking his brains out had actually worried him.

Why? He hadn't even met the blonde until today. Why was he all of a sudden worried over someone he didn't even know? Dammit, what the hell is wrong with you? Just walk away. Get back to your seat.

But even as his mind screamed at him to move away from the door and mind his own business, Ran's body refused to move. Resigned to stick around until the blonde came out of the bathroom, Ran sighed and leaned back against the wall near the door's hinges. He ran a frustrated hand through his short red locks before crossing his arms and closing his tired eyes.

A part of him wanted to leave the shop altogether yet the other part of him dreaded the thought of going home.Home? Ran smirked. What a bunch of bullshit.

With his uncle making him feel like shit all of the time, 'home' was just a myth. He had no home, only a place to sleep, eat and take daily doses of insults and reprimands. There was only one reason he stayed there, one reason why he tolerated all of the verbal let downs and jabs.

Aya.

Ran took a deep breath as his thoughts shifted toward his younger sister. A profound sadness seeped into him and Ran reached for his hard-earned control over his emotions.

Ever since the accident that had taken their parents away from them, Aya had been left paralyzed, unable to move from the waist down. She had been pinned underneath their overturned car while Ran had been thrown from the wreck. He had miraculously made it out of the accident with just a broken arm, a concussion and a few scrapes. But Aya hadn't faired as well as he had.

So many times he'd wished it had been him who'd suffered the loss of his legs and not his undeserving sister, but Ran knew there was nothing he could do. His sister was probably permanently handicapped and would require medical care for a long time to come. Her medical expenses alone were enough to keep Ran under his uncle's control. And his uncle knew it and took advantage of it.

Ran bit back a snarl as he thought of his uncle.

Nagumo Tobita was not an easy man to deal with. Being his aunt's husband, Ran was forced to live under his rules as long as he stayed with them. But he didn't like it, didn't like him. The man was an absolute control freak and gave Ran little room to make mistakes. Living with the man was near impossible now that Ran grown resilient to his uncle's ways, refusing to be hurt by the insults hurled at him constantly. His defiant attitude annoyed his uncle enough to have the man searching for other ways to ensure Ran's obedience.

Ran knew the man wouldn't hurt his sister. She was his only weakness but even his uncle couldn't stand tall against the protective hold his aunt had over Aya. And even though that protection had never been extended to him, Ran appreciated whatever his aunt could do for his sister. But his uncle had now found a way to get to him and Ran cursed his foolishness. He'd made himself vulnerable and he was going to have to deal with the consequences.

The situation at home had escalated throughout the years, progressively getting worst and worst and Ran had begun to seethe with anger. So much so, that when a known bully had tried to cross his path in his art class, Ran had finally exploded.

He couldn't even remember how the knife had gotten into his hand; he must have somehow grabbed it from his desk where he'd been using it. All he remembered was having the knife in his hand and seeing the other boy take a swing at him. Rage of the likes he'd never felt before consumed him and Ran had reacted without thought; only with instinct and anger.

And now I'm in a shitload of trouble. Worst still, he was now under his uncle's mercy. He could still recall the look of satisfaction on his uncle's pointy face when the man had shown up at the police station to pick him up.

Ran had known then and there that he was in deep shit. And he'd been right. Because of his stupidity, Ran was now forced to participate in this youth program and abide by his uncle's every command.

Ran gritted his teeth as he thought of all of the extra chores he now had to do on top of the ones he'd already been doing. It didn't matter to his uncle that the program and his chores would be consuming most of his day; taking up what little time he had to spend with Aya or to do his school work or to even rest. His uncle didn't care, in fact, the man was enjoying the predicament Ran had unceremoniously gotten himself into.

God, I hate him.

The sounds of the door being unlocked interrupted Ran's morbid thoughts. He opened his eyes and straightened as the door slowly began to open. Moving back a bit out of the door's way, he waited for the blonde to step out.

His violet eyes widened slightly when he finally caught sight of the blonde's pale features. But it wasn't the other teen's sickly complexion that had caught Ran's attention. It was the almost ethereal beauty of the blonde's face and those dark green eyes that had nearly floored Ran where he stood.

Kudou looked up at him almost reluctantly and grinned as he pushed his shades down over those gorgeous eyes. "Sorry. I'm not feeling too well."

Ran wanted to say something but found it hard to get the words past his lips. He swallowed and finally said, "You look like shit."

Yohji winced and Ran fought back the urge to ram his head into the nearby wall.

Smooth, Ran. Really smooth.

Previous Next

Forsaken Author Pairing Rating Subject