6*~*9*~*6*~*9*~*6*~*9*~*6*~*9*~*6 Two: Long Time for Lately 6*~*9*~*6*~*9*~*6*~*9*~*6*~*9*~*6 [None of this means anything.] Aya looked down to the scratches on his paper and read them again. At least, the ones that still made sense. [None of this means anything.] But there was nothing to be seen upon that paper save those words and mere fragments of lines. Ink that had fallen and made nothing. So it was too obvious, too real. He couldn't really remember writing it even, but that didn't surprise him, and so he let his pen dawdle over the boxes of printed blue (for it was notebook paper meant for a grade-schooler just leaning their Kanji), seeking whatever haiku lines might have hidden themselves there. Or was nothing, reflexively, nothing? Like one was one, Youji was Youji, Omi was Omi, and Ken was Ken? It was one of those lazy mornings with the fresh and almost addictive smell of hot, wet leaves in the air- one that would have been there around him even if he hadn't been minding the van. Inside became outside: all the windows had been opened. Youji and Omi were making the sales- not too many as the schoolgirls hadn't learned they were about yet. They the wandering florists of emails from far away, almost too far to touch. A thing of friends in cyberspace only. But then they came out of the walking home from school stories and the scans of fingerprints. And wherever they did go, he could swear the tingle in the air would change to take on the scent of all those joshikousei [1] touching themselves in fantasies of lovers besides stuffed bears. Either that or he grew used to the smells of wherever they would stay, and so they changed to him as he left them one by one. The girls were no concern of his, nor was any place at all any longer. Ken whistling, went past with a load of his sheets, pausing in the doorway to yawn as loudly as he could. Aya heard the youngest Weiss squeal several seconds later after the hiss of the hose going on- must have been squirted. And that made him smirk a little. Those two were always going at it, and any constant comforted him. Even the noisy ceiling, the midnight yelps of Omi falling from his chair. Anything new and benign did as well- Youji's fascination with bubble soap, Ken's sudden willingness to do the wash. And often! For he had now become a connoisseur of coin laundry it seemed. "Don't hang that up near the flowers, you'll get fabric softener marks on them," he reminded him though. "Yare yare." Quiet then again, he shook he head and faced his papers one more time. Not to mention gulped at what his hand had drawn in the absence of his full attention- the contours of a female body- splayed and nude and achingly ready for someone to take it. His curiosity over his own work got the better of him and he embellished it, just a bit. Made the nipples perky and the hint of the nether lips darkly flossed. He smiled. /What a sukebe [2] man spring has made me./ "AYA! Where am I s'posedta hang this if I can't put it with the flowers!? Youji's got his fancy underpants on the line out back." A glance passed between him and the headless venus, one which slapped his cheeks and made them red as could be. Footsteps came near his desk that was her bed. He flipped the paper over only to find his languorous strokes had bled through in all the right places. In gasping desperation, he clapped his Yawara shitajiki over the whole sordid joke, only to find Yawara herself now wearing a risqu‚ outline other than her own. Which had had just doused with Calpis water and started to scrub with his sleeve when Ken made it into the room, announcing himself with a silent stare, and so going unnoticed for some time. "Aya?" "NANI!" The swordsman, even at so soft a rendition of his own name had jumped, feeling feminine fingers in the airy tones and not knowing why. His companion remained unmoved, or did a good job of looking unmoved, and he himself asserted a grousy glance once the fright had been good and slid out of him. "The wash." "Look, if you really need to, you can just string up a new line between one of the doors to the shop and the rear view mirrors." Which brought a terribly disconcerting smile. "Really? So, for some reason today that won't make us look like we're trashy Americans?" How had he managed to forget all the times he'd cajoled, cursed or bribed his teammate out of doing such a thing? It only made his surprise all the more evident. "It's spring," Was all he said in reply and thereby turned back to the grey suds he had made all over his no longer so fashionable Judo girl, indicating clearly the conversation was over. Thankfully, Ken agreed with a mumbled and went skipping off for something he might use for such a line. After all, it was not well known in the Weiss pseudo-household if such a pedestrian thing as cotton string might be readily available. As for Aya, he groaned and let his forehead fall into the cup of his hand. Yawara could just stay inky for the time being. He hit his glasses by accident, and pulling his fingers away found them streaky with blotted sweat. He left them that way and turned over his leaves as if they might bite him. The naked girl came back to him, just a little smudged, and he knew she would have to die, or he would. Of embarrassment. /She'll go away, but it's not like everything else will./ /I should tell someone./ With dulcet whistfulness that shocked him to his unhappy core, he contemplated the little porcelain inkwell perched like an egg on top of his haiku books. /I... can't./ /I don't want to be a burden. Speak, and I will be a burden./ His katana from the other room shouted at him: Speak not, and you are nothing but dead weight on me, boy! He sighed. Meanwhile, Ken jumped over the rail to the outside steps and came flouncing up to Youji, hands squeezed in a knot behind his back and his sheets, for the moment, residing in the doorway lest the playboy espy them and come to suspect his semi-evil plot. Said playboy was found to be flirting wordlessly with some passing ladies, and all by whirling about with his bubble wand in hand and muddy water around his shoes. Omi shot him a baleful, distinctly damp look and shooed one of the orbs of fluxing, broken sunlight from the begonias he was mopping the excess moisture from. It broke on his breath, but Ken caught the next one in his hair and inadvertently carried it over. "Ne? Youji-kun? Where is your good, gold wire?" A quick re-dip of his wand, a little breath, and Youji's lips made a circlet of soapy blooms around Ken, who could have sworn the air within the bubbles was hazy with smoke. "In my sock drawer of course! Why do you ask?" "Oh, I just wanted to make sure it was still there," A nonchalant shrug here. "So I didn't accidentally get it in the next load or anything." Although, he was already seeing his laundry dancing back and forth across the almost invisible line of it, a thought which pleased him all too much, especially considering he knew himself as not-so-neat. But then again, maybe he wasn't what he thought he was? /Interesting thought that./ But just then, there came a flopping noise of something rolling onto their worn carpet and a very, very loud "SHIMATTA!". Footsteps, and Aya appeared at the window, deceptively calm. "I have knocked my ink over. Would one of you bring me a towel?" Ken promptly had an even more interesting one. "Say, you two? Has Aya been acting funny lately, d'you think?" Whereas Omi shook his head and greeted a chap who had earlier approached them regarding some irises, Youji froze and then winked in his very dirtiest manner. "Is Aya acting funny to me lately? Is Aya acting funny to ME *LATELY*!? I've been waiting for TWO goddamn years for you to ask me that! So yes! Back then, Aya WAS acting pretty funny to me lately. How long lately has been!" His companion here nodded only and stroked his chin. "Heh, I guess you're right." "That's not nice, Ken-kun," The youngest Weiss reprimanded over his shoulder. "Hey," Youji said then with an irritable volley of bubbles, "The truth sucks, get used to it." And over his shoulder to the retreating Hidaka, "And don't you even think about using my wire for a laundry line, you hear!" "Yes, master number two," Fortunately, this he had sighed out of earshot and on his way to fetch master number one a towel. Which he did with little alacrity, and shortly wished he had found some, for the little pot of ink, seeming so stable before, had upset itself all over the entire desk which was dripping bluish- black ectoplasm all over the floor and seeing fit dry fast in the all over sunlight. Aya, though he had asked for assistance, stood off to the side, the books balanced in his hands being as clean as could be while he himself looked almost surprised to see Ken. Ken who groaned. "OK... you told me to get a towel. This is not a one towel job. I'll start... you go grab the mop." "You don't seem mad." "Happens the everyone..." and with that, he started to make pulls in the sheet of dark liquid that had cast itself around that corner of their tiny living room. The papers one by one he snatched up, trying to reach a clean one where he could rescue what was left. The rest, including the naughty one now ruined to obscurity, sailed into the wastebasket. He found a haiku on the first one only lightly soiled, and that he kept. Just in case. He couldn't read it- Aya had terrible handwriting. And a terrible bought of woe in the broom closet. /I said it would be whoever came, and I meant it!/ Just to make sure no one had else to say over it, he slammed the door to his vacant cubby-room as he passed, so the katana wouldn't get out. End notes... [1] Pretty Little Girl in a Sailor Suit, yes, they even have a word for that in Japan. [2] Don't see this one much anymore. Sukebe = oversexed. As for why Aya has a Yawara the Fashionable Judo girl shitajiki, I'm guessing either he likes the show or his sister does. It's cute, it's shojo... but it's about martial arts! It was more of a mood thing... It's not cannon that he wears glasses... but just take a moment to picture him like that ^_^.