Part 2- Tea on Terra with You
[Version 2.0]

When Ken awoke the next morning the sun had not even fully 
banished his nightly shyness before the face of the moon.  Had 
the clouds not obscured them, both would have been seen hanging 
in the heavens that morning.  Only a mingled, dim turquoise light 
escaped and made it's way to Ken's supine form and his redolent 
slumber.

He awakened after the first dreamless night that had graced him 
in years to find that due to the hour and the firmament's garb, 
his room existed in not so different a state of sweet dawn limbo.  
Though quite awake at once, he remained in his bed for a few 
extra moments trying to memorize the exact curves and folds of 
his sheets before he rose.  Peace had come to him at last.  This 
was all his sadness swept away, leaving only a film of pearly 
anticipation, and a sort of happy dread.

Today he would leave this sorry Ken behind, and find the one 
hidden in the coffin of his heart that had been buried so many 
years ago.  The new Ken one seemed to be returning already, even 
as he bathed that morning, and he could not claim to feel very 
much like Ken at all, like anything more than a few feathery 
words floating on a page.

There would be plenty of times for lazy baths tonight, and so he 
merely showered, but still washed his hair three times and 
borrowed a dollop of Youji's conditioner.  Which didn't exactly 
help.  He smiled softly at his reflection as he dressed- it 
seemed small and bluish in the foggy glass.  

It took him awhile to find among his few possessions the rather 
new pair of blue sneakers he'd bought a week or two ago and, 
owing to missions diverting his roughhousing time, not yet 
completely destroyed.  He skipped the socks, the gloves, the 
goggles, and otherwise put on his most presentable jeans, an aqua 
tunic that was somewhat too long for him... and a thong he had 
stuffed in the back of his drawer for a special occasion.  If 
this wasn't one, he didn't know what was.  He also considered 
buying a new jacket for a moment, but found himself rather 
attached to the old.

Then came the hard part.  He looked over his quarters, his few 
unremarkable possessions.  The trophies belonged to the other 
Ken.  The gundams were too delicate to carry.  He'd never owned a 
knickknack in his life.  No one ever took snapshots of assassins, 
so he had none to stuff in his pocket.   He did however remember 
the picture of Kaze he kept hidden face down in his sock drawer.

The one that shortly flew out the window and landed with a crash 
in the dumpster.  Ken left the window open with the shades 
sighing in the cool morning air.

Then he went to check on Ran, opening his door with not the 
slightest shudder of the hinges.  He found him lying in haze of 
diffused luminescence- naked and sleeping like an angel.

/Don't wake up! Just stay like that, please? For me, just once 
more.../

But he left him and as he did, his chest went tight, and his 
hands faltered.

/What about Youji and Omi? I can't exactly say goodbye... not 
now!/

Ashamed, he crept to Youji's room and peered inside.  Then he had 
to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from crying out.

Omi was in that bed too.

He gave them one last parting gift, and unplugged their alarm. 

Then he started on the notes scrawled on his last Pochacco 
stationary.

To his two companions, left behind on Antiterra:

Aya and I are alright.  Farewell, Ken.

(Anything else and he feared he would become quite melodramatic.)

To Momoe:

Sorry we didn't give notice, please fire us at once. -Aya and Ken

Should he leave one for Manx? She'd just be offended.

To speak for his bike, who had been well-behaved:

Please find me a good home! -Ken's Bike

To Hitsuki, the eldest of his students:

I'm sorry.  This is very short notice, but a friend of mine needs 
help and I am going to take care of him.  I'll be gone at least a 
month, if I come back at all.  Please tell the others I love 
them.  Enclosed is enough money for a few rounds of that punch 
gatorade they love so much (The exact amount was 20,000 yen).  
I'm leaving you in charge.  Thank you.  Good luck in the Olympic 
trials! -Ken Niichan

To little Tetsuo, who he didn't mind favoring now that he was 
going away:

Thank you for all the laughs over the years.  Inside the box is 
the ball from my first J-league game you always wanted to see and 
I never seemed to remember to bring.  It's yours now, but don't 
tell the others ^_~ -Ken Niichan

He left the Koneko, and didn't realize he had until he stood on 
the empty street.  There were things he would need to learn to 
forget.  In time.  And nothing hateful.

By this time, mid morning had arrived, and the souls about him on 
the sidewalks flourished into the usual daily thrum.  It all 
would have been perfectly worth overlooking, if it hadn't been 
his last day there, and if their presence didn't seem to have 
chased away the clouds who left only their children in their 
wake.  Warmth came, and the sense that this world was his for a 
few moments, so he stood still on the pavement, admiring his 
domain.

Until it left him.

Ken emptied his checking account which took longer than he'd 
expected.  He was shocked by the amount he'd saved up by living 
lightly between terrors.  Now that they were gone, he decided to 
start doing away with what his fears had left him in possession 
of. 

He bought his Ran a pair of ruby studs with crystals that had 
been cut with starbursts on their tables.  Sure of their 
perfection, he then collected a hardback edition of Ada or Ardor, 
and copies of two Final Fantasy Games: nine and the anthology 
edition of six.

At exactly 11:34, Hidaka Ken sat down on a bench in front of the 
library to wait for the beloved he had not even known about the 
day before.

***

For Ran, leaving the Koneko no Sunu ie had been much easier than 
he'd  first thought it would be.  The only preparations he'd made 
prior to his departure was to take a shower and dress (black 
T-shirt, jeans, boots).  On the bed, he left a letter for Birman 
regarding Aya's care, but Ran didn't leave a note for his two 
teammates.  All that he took of his belongings was his favorite 
black pullover sweater (which he carried), and a 
singed-around-the-edges photograph of himself and Aya when they 
were eight and six respectively (which he pocketed).  

And all that he mourned as he left was his katana, which still 
lay in its rack above his dresser.  As Ran shut the back door 
behind him, the sunlight caught the chrome of a passing car; 
in the momentary blinding of his vision, Ran saw the blade as 
it looked whenever he drew it.  

That memory he locked away within his heart to reside with all 
the rest.  

*** 

After the muttering and howling of life down on the street, the 
quiet of the hospital seemed to Ran like a blessing--like always.  
It had only taken a few minutes for him to walk the distance from 
the shop to Tenrousei, and sadly, he only had a few minutes left 
before he had to leave it.  

He didn't speak to her when he entered Aya's room, only kissed her, 
and placed a bouquet of white irises and pink daffodils he'd made 
the day before on her window ledge.  

There Ran had remained, staring down at the bustle below.  He 
found it hard to face her now, and the words weren't coming like 
he so hoped they would.  The throb of the machines behind him 
seemed to fill the room, growing more and more insistent until 
at last he found his voice.  

"You won't like what I have to say, but...I'm leaving." 

He paused, imagining how she would react if she were awake.  
Hesitantly, Ran turned to look at her still form.  Not an inch 
had she moved, her face still as blandly expressionless.  He 
studied her a moment before pushing away from the vantage point 
he'd taken by the window.  As Ran reached Aya's bedside, one of 
his hands found its way around one of her long, thick braids.  
He traced the way her dark hair had been folded together.  

"I don't want to leave you.  I'm not going away because of you.  
I don't want you to think I don't care anymore, because I do. I 
never stopped loving you, Aya."  

Gently, Ran stroked one finger down her cheek.  

"But there's someone...I can't let go.  I want you to meet him 
someday, and for that to happen, I have to go with him now. 
 Okay?  Don't be angry with your big brother, hm?"  

Through the thin veil of tears that had fallen over his eyes, 
the sharp line of her jaw came into focus, the silken spray of 
her inky lashes.  Ran smoothed her bangs away from her forehead, 
and bent to kiss her there.  

"Everything's going to be all right, Aya.  I promise."  


***

Omi woke up just about the time Ken began his wait, and knew 
nothing of it, naturally.  He did know however, that he had 
awakened in the arms of his beautiful boyfriend who was buried 
with him among a small army of pillows.  

They proved somewhat difficult to creep out of, as his playful 
nerves had all but demanded he do.  Once free he sneaked down to 
the kitchen, and, wearing nothing but his socks, melted a cup of 
butter in the microwave which he set on the counter closest his 
own chair.  

At 11:52, he flopped down on the table to wait for Youji.

***

The sunshine was warm on the back of his neck, and for the first 
time in a long while, Ran ignored his nagging guilt, and let 
himself enjoy the feel of it.  He felt his nerves rise and 
prickle just beneath his skin, and he shivered as if cold, 
though that certainly wasn't the case.  

People milled about him, but he mostly kept his eyes to the 
earthquake worried pavement as he walked towards their chosen 
meeting place.  Time ticked by on his watch, hustled the speed of 
his steps, but couldn't drive the image of his sister lying so 
unmovingly within her rough white sheets.  That memory he 
intended to keep alive within him, only now working towards the 
day when he might be comfortable enough with himself to reunite 
with her.  

When he looked up at the last corner, and saw Ken smiling back 
at him from the corner opposite, he realized that maybe he'd 
found the beginning of that road.  

The light changed, and Ran drew up alongside him, smiling 
slightly.  

"Am I late?"  

***

This boy dressed for a funeral, and flushed as with a glut of 
sunshine was Aya?

"No, of course not, Ran! In fact," he held up his watch and 
pointed to the dial.  "it just turned twelve."

That said, he pulled off the watch and tossed it into the bushes.  
Ran stayed where he was, utterly still and with faintly glassy 
eyes.  Ken guessed he looked the same himself.  "We're goin' away 
now, but I guess you figured that out.  It's only a half hour 
walk, and then we can get a ride.  But I... I kinda can't touch 
you 'til we take that walk.  It's really had to explain, and I'm 
not good at explainin' stuff period." 

He could only hope his own disappointment at this bothersome 
custom was only half as much as his companion's. 

"You'll love it there.  And I got you these to make up for... 
everything." Saying this, he rooted around in his pocket until he 
came up with the grey velvet box, which flicked open in his palm.  
"I know you really like the ones you got on, so you don't have to 
wear 'em."

***

Ran took the little velvet box from Ken in wonder.  They were so 
gorgeous, those starred rubies, glittering like vampire tears in 
the summer sunlight. But...

Abruptly snapping the jewel box shut, Ran touched the gold dangle 
that hung from his left ear.  

"I can't take this off.  I'll...just have to get my ears pierced 
again, I guess."  Pocketing the earrings, Ran edged a little 
closer to him.  "I'd give you a kiss as thanks, but I guess 
you'd rather tell me where we're going instead."  
 

*** 

Ken took a deep breath, both of Ran's creamy non-smell and of his 
delightfully delinquent desire to take everything he could 
without breaking the (stupid) rule.  

"Hey, I said it's OK.  I understand.  But you don't haffta get 
your ear pierced again on MY account."

But then, in a brief interlude of silence, it came to him that 
this vague choking sadness may well have been him own, selfish 
wants to cuddle the other boy as hard as he could.  He made no 
response to the offer of a kiss, fearing his lips would start to 
ache. 

"Sure thing.  Like I said, it's not too far." He stood up and 
took off across the pavement, almost skipping or looking to have 
lost his balance on the gravity of Antiterra.  But be beckoned 
and he caught himself... 

And the two of them stepped into the flock of pedestrians on 
their way out to lunch that summer morning.  It was then they 
truly vanished.  Not before, and not after.  

***

Slitting open his aching eyes, Youji emerged from a dream 
involving an angel-winged Omi and a bottle of warm fudge sauce 
to find himself alone.  Stretching sinously, Youji sat up, 
tossing his mussed hair out of his face. His hand crept across 
Omi's side of the bed, and found it warm. That made him smile 
a bit. 

But the sight of Omi's shirt and shorts on the floor made him 
grin. 
 
He bounded out of the bed, the room, without a care that he was 
still as naked as he had been at bedtime. Without a thought about 
Ken or Aya as he made his rounds.  
 
No beautiful naked boy in the den. No desirable little blond in 
the shower. Which meant...The grin on his face grew wider, and he 
laughed with glee... 
 
...And was caught off guard anyway. Youji had expected to find 
his luscious Omi making breakfast. He didn't expect Omi to *be* 
his breakfast.  Nor did he expect to find him as he did, with the 
sun spilling across him and glinting off his hair and pale skin, 
dazzling his eyes. As if they weren't in a kitchen but in some 
secret glade and Omi wasn't a human boy but a sleeping godling. 
 
Correction: An awake godling. Awake in all sorts of heavenly  
ways.  
 
He swept a hand through his hair, smoothing it back as he bent to 
kiss him  hungrily; caressed his hip.  "Just what I wanted to 
wake up to." 
 
He swiped at Omi's breastbone with his tongue.  "You must have 
read my mind, Omi.  It's little wonder that I love you." 
 
He kissed the moist tip of his sex and straightened up with a 
feral grin.  It was then that he noticed the cup of melted 
butter at his side.  
 
"Why, is that for me?" He took the little cup in hand and dipped 
his pinky into it, raising it promptly to his mouth to lick it 
clean. "Mmm. It's still warm, too. How...delicious."  
 
He dipped two fingers into it, holding them over the cup to drip 
and smirking mischievously. "There all sorts of uses for melted 
butter, you know, Omi. But I have a feeling you want me to use 
if for something specific."  
 
The cup was gently replaced on a nearby chair, and Youji's slick  
fingers slid around Omi's penis, stroking slowly.  
 
"So...What do you want me to do, Omi?"  

***
 
Omi arched his back against the surface of the table.  At first 
he held his moan in his throat.  What if Aya or Ken heard? What 
if anyone heard? What if...

This was this their house and they were perfectly welcome to make 
all the noise they wanted.

So, actually, he ended up making a sensual little squeak like a 
baby doll that has been hugged a little too tightly.  He lifted 
his bare toes and ran them over Youji's side.  Youji who hovered 
over him with a halo of familiar cheery light from the fixture in 
the ceiling... but how wild and indecorous those spackled boards 
seemed now! How lewd the cupboards seemed to rest! How he would 
never ever be able to eat off this table again without laughing!

He wrapped his legs around his lover and hoisted himself up on 
his arms and the heels of his hands.

"Well," Omi began with a flick of his tongue over his grinning 
lips.  "I was kinda hoping... me.  But whatever you want, Youji-
kun.  I don't think you can hurt me. I'm not..." He paused, 
leaning forward for a long, frantic, wet kiss.  "... as 
inexperienced as you might think.  Well, I haven't... not with 
anyone."

And then it hit him.  His eyes grew wide with a sudden bedroom 
twrror- both of being mistaken for not being a virgin and of a 
certain red-head's wrath.  He blushed and shrugged embarrassedly.  
"Oh Youji-kun! Please don't tell Aya what happened to those 
cucumbers! He'd never forgive me!"

***

/Cucumbers?!/

The shocked look on Youji's face dissolved in a fit of laughter.  
One which grew wilder at the thought of how Aya would take the 
news of Omi's little experiment.  

"Oh, don't worry, I'll never tell him."  

He hopped up on the table at that, positioning himself 
suggestively between Omi's lean legs; they were smooth as cream 
to the touch.  He idly stroked him there, hips shifting against 
Omi's as he leaned in for another searing kiss.

"A cucumber is one thing.  This is another," he said, taking his 
sex in hand and rubbing it as he lustily eyed the youthful body 
in front of him.     

"And as for what I want...Well, Omi, I want what you want."  
He reached for the precious cup of still warm butter and dipped 
his fingers in it, swirled them through it.  All the while 
smiling brightly.  

"I want to fuck you."

He set it down on the chair seat again out of harm's way and bent 
over his new lover.  One butter-smeared hand trailing down and 
around him to tease at the opening of his body.  

"And I'm going to do slow and careful."  He came closer, and 
lapped at Omi's lower lip, index finger inching forward between 
the creamy globes of his ass.  

"Much...like...this."  

His tongue slipped into his softly parted lips at the same time 
as his finger breached the entrance to his body.  

***

Omi shook so violently at this first caress, he feared he had 
scared his lover off at first.  It wasn't fear or pain that had 
drawn his shudder, but rather the sensation of a touch that was 
not his own tracing over him.  He had been so used to having 
complete control over his play.  His nerves could always 
anticipate the jolts of anything he used to play with himself.

This was different.

And he seized his wrist to keep him from pulling away, Omi being 
stronger than he looked.  He then gave it a little yank forward, 
letting the two wet fingers slide further in than the first time.

So much for Youji looking sleepy most of the time...

"And I want fucked in the worst way, you don't even know.  
Everyone thinks I'm just a kid! That I don't even know what sex 
is or that I don't pay attention, but you know better."

Still holding on Youji's wrist, he pulled, gave himself another 
buttery shove.

"But I get horny too, Youji-kun! Itoshi.  I guess you figured 
that out after last night though..."

His lover's neck he tugged now, down, close, laid them almost lip 
to lip as the two of them in unison as he sank back to the 
surface of the table.

"I've learned something about you too... you like surprises? Oh, 
I hope I'm right! I LOOOOOOVE surprising people.  In fact, why 
don't you surprise me and do me however you want? I've been 
waiting... seems like forever." 

***

Youji slid his fingers into him again, simply to watch him writhe.  
Youji found it bewitching, the way he arched and squeaked.  "Aa, 
Omi, I love surprises.  I love this surprise.  This is better 
than any gift I could have gotten, finding you lying here, naked." 

Youji dipped his head down to kiss him, but shifted at the last 
moment to gently bite at the curve of his neck.  "All for me to 
devour."

He jerked his wrist out of Omi's grip and sat up a little, 
leaning over to take the butter up again.  Scooped it out and 
coated himself thoroughly from root to tip, dripping butter onto 
the table top, onto Omi's legs.  He grasped those lean, strong 
legs and pushed them apart and up, hefting them around his waist, 
his tip nudging between the shadowy cleft.  Having him thus 
pinned, Youji gave him a kiss, soft and slow and nibbling.  
"I'm sorry I ever called you a kid.  I'm sorry I made too many 
assumptions about you.  And I've waited for this..."

Gripping Omi's hips, Youji gave one hard shove forward and he 
slid into the blond, filling him completely.  Slick and hot and 
tight--oh, was Omi tight around him! Youji moaned with the sheer 
ecstasy of being inside him, not giving a damn who heard or came 
or what they might say or do if they did.

***

"Mari Kurisumasu!" Omi whispered.

And then he screamed as Youji pushed into him.  There had come 
but a split second of pain, utterly obliterated by the rush of 
his body opening up, and giving into this most perfect of 
assaults.

"Youji-kun!" he gasped.  "If I would have known how hot you were 
for me, I would have showed up at your bedroom door with a dildo 
and a bottle of whipped cream ages ago! I... I... 
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh... do that again." 

His teeth ground, he felt a film of sweat starting not only on 
his own body, but on his lover's too.  He pulled his hips higher 
and his whole body jerked with each of those delicious thrusts, 
which was fine, except his head was starting to creep closer and 
closer to the edge of the table.

He didn't care.  His nearly nailess fingertips snatched at Youji, 
clawed at Youji, did no good.  There was only enough room in him 
for so much of his companion.

He felt as if he was jiggling away and melting into a puddle that 
would ooze down onto the floor and have to be mopped up by Aya.  

A laugh bubbled out between his yelps.  "So what are we going to 
say if they walk in, huh? How about we tell them to go have 
breakfast in another room, as politely as we can? Because we 
already ate.  You know just like that? Just like I'm not..." 

Another scream, Youji had paused for a second, so Omi ground 
their hips together, felt Youji grating around inside him.

/Wait... I forgot something.../

But it was an easy thing to fix.  "Fuck me Youji-kun! I love you! 
I love you! I... I... YOUJI!"

He head made it off the edge, his left arm collided with the 
chair that unfortunately had the butter on.  The shattering 
glass; it was nothing compared to what he felt.  He couldn't stop 
laughing between his moans.

***

There came a glittering crash and a transparent yellow puddle 
smeared a few inches of the white linoleum floor. Youji merely 
grinned and hooked his hands over the edge of the table, his 
arms resting atop Omi's shoulders.  All the better to hold him 
up while he ravaged him, head dangling and that pale, graceful 
throat exposed for the touch of his lips.  
 
Hands tightening, white knuckled, he continued his steady 
assault on Omi's body. "You tell them that, Omi. Look Aya dead 
in the eye and tell him that. Cause I don't care what he says, 
what either of them say.  Let 'em come in. Let 'em see how 
beautiful you are." 

He bent his head and licked down the center of his throat, 
arching up the underside of his chin.  "Ah, but you're sweet. 
I must have been a very, very good boy this year to have such a 
treat as you. Either that, or the old bastard must have made a 
mistake." He laughed again, thrusting just a little harder, 
gasping and grunting softly with the effort. He moved one hand 
between Omi's neck and the hard table edge, padding him.  
 
"Either way, I'm happy, happy, happy." 
 
He shifted a little, so as to caress Omi's penis with the soft 
skin of his lower belly as he pounded into him, moaning.  
 
"And I want...you to be happy too...Ahh!" 

***

"I am Youji-kun! You don't know! You don't know!"  The only thing 
that could have made him gladder was bragging to the faces of his 
comrades, especially bragging to their faces while he remained 
firmly beneath his beautiful boyfriend. "This is no mistake! 
Never! Never! Never! You think I wouldn't want them to come in? 
See me like this? I can't think of what would... what would..."

Omi's head lolled back into the cup of Youji's hands and he shook 
again with a soft cry.  Not yet... not just yet.  But soon, 
awfully soon.  What of his lover?

He tensed and squirmed his inner muscles, felt himself drip a 
little against the table.

As for Youji- his eyes actually swam shut for a moment, holding 
him in a split second image of surreal guilelessness.  

"What would make me gladder! Oh! Youji-kun."

But the world began to dissolve around him.  The table vanished, 
his own form vanished- he was but a puff of delicated fog, a bit 
of pressure, something weaving in and out of Youji, enrapturing 
him, holding him... taking everything of his.  Rising and sinking 
with the sea.  He burned inside.  He was helpless as a newborn 
and he was the universe of his lover as the air swam with their 
cries, the creaking of his skin on the varnish...

And then the sound all lovers rue.  A door opening.

"Are you boys alright? I heard something break and I... 
AIEEEEEEEEEE!"

Thud.

Omi's upside down eyes caught everything, so he was first to cry 
out, on the peak of his orgasm, something not dreadfully 
indicative of an orgasm.  "Oh my god! We've killed the little old 
lady who runs the flower shop!"

***

The door opening, Momoe-san tumbling to the ground in shock and 
Omi's subsequent horrified little cry--all registered in Youji's 
brain, and his emotions with it.  Distress.  Irritation.  
Concern.  Any other time he would have reacted in the usual 
proper way.  

However, Youji was on the verge of coming, and damned if he 
was going to deny his body release for some nosy old woman's 
sake.

Eyes screwed shut, he buried himself deep inside him once more 
and felt him grab at him...*Hard*.  It was just enough of a wave 
to carry him over, and shuddering violently, he fell into a field 
of stars, all sparking white and hot.  He felt only Omi inside 
and  outside, and Youji rocked his hips against him frantically 
until the warm  stickiness ceased to flow.  

Then he slumped on top of him with a soft moan, all damp and 
shaking and bruised and blissfully content.    

A few deep breaths and at last he raised himself up on his 
elbows and looked sleepily towards the doorway.  Everything 
came back to him in a rush.  

"Oh, fuck."

***

Omi threw himself fully into his last moments of joy, burying his 
mouth on his lover's, before sinking, down, down, finding himself 
in the haze below sex with his head hanging off the edge of the 
table, his cheeks flushed, his stomach soaked with his own 
juices.  Something warm and sweet above and... his eyes shot 
open.

"Momoe-san! Oh no! Oh no!" And he slipped backwards out from 
under Youji, wincing horribly as they parted prematurely.  Surely 
a good bought of love-making deserved a good bought of afterglow, 
relishing the pressure and the sinking, wild aroma of Youji.  And 
this was good.

For everyone but Momoe.  He called to her again, dropping on his 
knees and reaching one hand out to her silver hair.  But where 
had that hand just been!? All over Youji and himself.  Not to 
mention the rest of him! He was cumsoaked! He was dripping butter 
he... somehow managed to pluck up the courage to feel out her 
pulse with that not exactly saintly hand.  

"She's alive! I think she's just fainted.  Quick! Call the 
hospital!" Then rubbing his fingers down the traces of his 
orgasm.  "And maybe you should get me a towel too... Pants..."

*** 

"Fainted. Hospital. Pants. Right."  
 
Dazedly, Youji clambered off the table to the floor, only to bark 
his shins on one of the chairs as he hastened away.  
 
Muttering curses, Youji staggered past Omi, stepped awkwardly 
over Momoe's body--which was no mean feat as she blocked the 
whole of the threshold--and headed off for the bathroom for the 
(bloody) towels.  He found Ken's green terry cloth bathrobe 
hanging on a hook behind the door and slung it over his shoulder 
as he left. 
 
One of the towels he dropped on Omi's head; the robe he held out 
to him. "Come on, Omi, and get into this. Surely she won't be 
offended by the sight of you in a robe. And I'm calling the 
hospital now! Don't give me that look." 
 
Punching the buttons, Youji leaned up against the wall outside 
the kitchen, the towel held over the lower front half of his 
butter-and-semen stained body with his free hand. Gave the 
address and the problem (but not the reason for it) and shut up 
the phone with two clicks. 
 
And then he began to laugh. 

***

Their walk wound through the narrow by-streets of older Tokyo- 
those still haunted by lovely old ladies with flowers in the 
windows, and rusty bikes and the occasional noodle house still 
run by the owner's children.  In time, through every byway came 
the fields of glittering macadam and oceans of muddied puddles.  
Two faerie lands, coexisting.  They seemed to cross miles and 
miles- space such as years required to find the edges of.  Their 
path was never straight, and the minutes never long.  The noise 
never ceasing.

They even passed a few rice fields filled with their own very 
confused crickets.

/What an omen.../

But the stalks peering up from the water and the tadpoles grew 
younger and younger.  "We're almost there."

He added then, "About that little girl? I ah... I didn't think 
then... She's from where we're going... In fact, she's from right 
there!"

Up ahead stood one of the grey sentinels of Japanese education.  
Just ordinarily hidden between two unrelated places, close but 
not too close.

The sign, in blue and gold letters read-  "The Humberuto Academy 
for Gifted Young Ladies."

***

The melding of the two worlds had been so seamless that Ran had  
scarcely felt the switch between them; it was the same time, 
another place, a patchwork quilt of tableaux. Ran felt like he'd 
fallen through the Looking Glass, and he fervently hoped that 
the flowers wouldn't start talking.  
 
"It doesn't surprise me that you know children even here...
Wherever 'here' is." 

Sparing a curious look for the sign and the stately building 
behind it, Ran shook out his sweater and pulled it on.  "Is this 
where we go next?" he asked, flicking his mussed bangs out of his 
eyes.  "Where whatever needs to happen does happen and 
then...What?" 

***

"Ran! Ran! We haven't gone anywhere just yet... well, b'sides the 
walk.  This is still Tokyo.  Justa part of Tokyo no one goes to 
anymore. This school's so well hidden, you can't even find the 
uniform design listed on those fetish sites for middle-aged, 
pervs!"

Indeed, if he hadn't run into that girl the other day, he would 
have been infinitely startled by the queer garb of these 
children, for it was not of the usual duns and navies and 
crimsons.  The uniforms here were gold and cobalt.  

This besides the profusion of grades, all in one campus.  Rather 
than exhibiting a clean line between middle and highschool, a 
host of girls from six to nearly his own age fluttered about 
little park that stood before their classes.  Some in sailor 
suits and some in blouses; some in frightfully skimpy gym wear, 
some even in the verbose garb of a marching band.  

There was no gate at the end of the driveway- just a blue line 
painted on the pavement.  He and Ran simply passed the break, as 
the students did not.  Speaking of the students, once the two 
boys crossed, eyes of a thousand different colors darted away 
from their games and their songs to look upon them.  He didn't 
know a one of them, and only one of them knew him.  

Ken took a moment to ask a teacher in a long, violet coat where 
the office was, and she directed him to the top floor.  

No sooner had he and Ran entered the building, than he let out a 
sigh- the only noise in the spotless white halls.  "We're here 
now.  Don't be cold."

Saying that, he slid his arm around his companion's shoulders.  
"You coulda said somethin'.  I woulda walked faster."

So they started down the hall, and he took glances into the 
classrooms.

Not a one of the teachers was male.  This had to be the place.

***

"Youji would have felt right at home here," remarked Ran dryly.  
"In fact, we would have probably lost him after meeting that 
teacher outside."  

He peeked through the windows of a classroom as they passed by.  
Rows of smartly uniformed girls were bent diligently over their 
text books, scribbling on paper.  The teacher turned her back, 
and one girl quickly threw a note to another.  

"But why did we have to come to a girls' school before we left? 
 And why are we going to the office?"  

***

Ken didn't answer at once- it was not a question of phrasing or 
memory.  Not a fear, or an attempt to hide anything any longer.

He just liked the feel of Ran's words lingering in his ears, the 
shy tapping of his fingers against him, just how they were.

"Well, the answer to both of those questions is we needa find 
this girl named Savil, and she goes to this school.  You'll see 
why sooner or later."

They had ascended the last flight of stairs and quite at once 
found that on their left was a long stretch of glass 
partitioning, with a window labeled: Office.  Ken held the door 
for Ran and they both stepped inside, finding that beyond laid 
not only what looked from the outside to be a perfectly mundane 
office with blue carpet and the hum of keyboards in the air...

But what WAS a perfectly mundane office with blue carpet and the 
hum of keyboards in the air!

Perhaps it was a bit large, and there seemed to be a extra lot of 
chairs for waiting visitors.  Perhaps the only thing that made it 
unique was the people waiting there.

Three men.  Two in their late twenties who were whispering and 
giggling as they sat entirely too close to one another on a 
double bench, and an elder chap by himself, who smiled 
saccharinely at Ken and Ran.

Ken smiled back but in the end approached the woman at the desk- 
a plump, cute, darkly flossed dame with 1950's glasses and a bun.

"Hi," he began with an uncharacteristic politeness as he set his 
collection on the counter- Ada rested atop the two games, but 
revealing their slip covers.  "I'm here to see Savil."

"Of course, just a moment please," The receptionist replied.  
"It's almost time for class to end, I'll have her called down in 
a bit.  Please have a seat over there."

"Thanks." Ken waved to her and turned back to Ran, to whom he 
made a little gesture with his head, surrendering the right to 
choose their seat to his sweetie.

Somewhere a bell rang, and another woman's voice called over the 
speakers: "Would Akiko Ashigawa, Anna Carter and Sapphire Marlow 
please report to the office. Akiko Ashigawa, Anna Carter and 
Sapphire Marlow." 

***

Choosing a place to sit wasn't hard at all.  Ran had taken notice 
of the place he wanted when they entered the office:  A Victorian 
love seat curved in an S shape; the back of it low and scooped.  
Perfect for hands to traverse across.  It was on the uninhabited 
side of the room, in front of an impressionistic painting of a 
Dutch tulip field; dots of red and yellow shone amidst the green 
fields, and windmills loomed in the blue, cloud-swirled sky.  

He crossed over to it, and took the ice cream cup seat in front 
of it, leaving the other to Ken. 

No sooner had Ken seated himself than did Ran drape his arm 
across the back of the love seat; shyly, he fumbled the 
curve of his shoulder.  

***

Ken took the seat Ran had suggested to him, and then the hand 
that ghosted onto his shoulder.  Most Japanese were so picky 
about touching in public, but Ran didn't seem that way, just a 
little reluctant, maybe.  Ken certainly couldn't say he felt 
the same, being Terran and all, so he leaned over and brushed 
his face against Ran's hair, whispering.

"Thank you for coming with me."

No chance to answer came.  They were both rather startled by the 
loud banging of the door as an adorable Asian lass who looked far 
too small to have made the racket entered and was greeted with 
open arms by the lone fellow at the other end of the room.  As 
they started out together, a demure athletic redhead, almost 
their own age, came to greet the couple at the other end, and 
they included her in their covert conversation.

The woman at the desk leaned forward and surveyed the hall 
through the class.  She said to Ken then, "Have you met yours?"

To which Ken replied truthfully, "Umm... no."

"I should warn you, she's got this uncanny ability to finish 
other people's sentences."

Ken pursed his lips in a quiet musing, but went back to Ran and 
stroking him.  It was best to learn where he liked it best NOW 
after all.

Another minute or two had passed since the halls had cleared, 
when one last little girl appeared on the other side of the 
indoor window.  One who proved to be the very same who had 
approached Ken the day before; one who looked as if the uniform 
had been colored just to fit her brilliant faerie tale looks.  

She seemed lost in thought at first, but somewhere in the middle 
of a complaint uttered to herself, she looked inside the office, 
and promptly did something quite unladylike: she jumped up and 
down, clapping gaily and waving even as she lunged for the door.  
That obstacle removed, she took a few prancing steps past it, 
before leaping into the air and coming down in one and a half 
cartwheels that flashed her pink panties to all assembled.  She 
paused in the middle of the second, as if dropping into slow 
motion.  Of course then, she flipped to her feet and performed a 
perfect feminine bow.

"I didn't think you'd come at all."

Before Ken could answer, the office lady spoke up: "Now Savil, 
what have we told you doing that without a gym mat and in front 
of the guests?"

"Well, you told me not to of course! But I..." Her shoulder 
shrugged and she examined her shoes for a moment.  "I'm sorry.  I 
won't do it again"

Ken still couldn't help smiling at her as he took her little hand 
in his and kissed it.  "S'ok."

"Thank you, Ken." She reached over, and ran her hand through his 
hair, as if he was much younger than her.  But she spoke to Ran, 
"We have to go speak in another room for a bit.  Won't be long, I 
promise.  It's still nice to meet you!"

***

Savil punctuated her farewell with a happy little wave, Ken with 
sheepish sort of grin.  Unsmilingly, Ran watched them weave 
through the sea of antique desks towards a pair of slim screens 
across the room.  When the fragile paper blotted out Ken's 
retreating form from his sight, Ran took his seat before the 
painting again.  Behind him, he could hear the murmuring of the 
teenage girl and the couple she'd joined.  The words they spoke 
were nonsensical to him, though, being of a language he wasn't 
knowledgeable in; only the tone in which they were spoken hinted 
at their meaning.  A puzzle, surely, but one that lacked all the 
appeal of the one he currently found himself enmeshed in.  

It was all very odd, he silently mused, his attention immersed in 
the painting before him.  Talk of a place called Terra, and some 
strange little girl who knows Ken.  Why hadn't he seen her 
before?  

Over and over in his head Ran tumbled the intricate knot of 
events, until the weight of all he pondered wearied him 
into slumber.  

***

The paramedics arrived quite contemporaneously, and proved polite 
enough to refrain from asking why there were two half-naked chaps 
in the kitchen with the injured woman, both of whom where 
laughing hysterically, even as they did their best to perform 
first aid on the still unconscious Momoe.  

But paramedics, by their nature, do see an awful lot.  Would that 
the same could have been said for the host of schoolgirls who had 
gathered outside the shop, arrayed for battle and complaining 
loudly about the lack of their favorite peep-show.

It was determined within a few moments of the medics' arrival, 
that the matron of the flower shop had not hurt her neck or 
suffered even a mild heart attack.  Somehow she had missed 
smashing her nose.  Had she fallen on the butter? No, her shoes 
were clean so no further questions were asked for the moment.  
She had, however, probably broken her hip.

Still, clutching Ken's robe to him and hoping the terrycloth 
would stop threatening to drift away from him, Omi followed as 
they walked her out to the ambulance, and at once found himself 
assaulted by the waiting hoard of groupies.

"Not now! I'm very sorry! I have to talk to the medics a moment.  
Hey! Stop that! Sumimasen! Sorry but could you move?"

This was all eased after a shrill shriek which indicated just as 
clearly as the hand on his shoulder that Youji had appeared 
behind him, willing to assist with the inquires: how long would 
she be out? Which hospital was she being taken to? Did they need 
to make a statement?

Just as he was scrawling the name of the establishment on his 
wrist, Omi noticed Momoe's eyes starting to flutter open under 
the influence of some pungent smelling salts.  "Momoe-sama!" he 
cried, stooping beside her gurney.  "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry.  
Momoe-sama? Can you hear me? I..."

That was when she screamed. "KYA! Okama! Atachi ike yo! 
Okaaaaaaaaama!"

Omi would never be so red in his life as he was at that second.  
"But Momoe-sama! We didn't... we thought... We... Youji... I..." 
he couldn't even hear himself think over the titter that had 
arisen behind him among the stunned and shrieking girls.  

"Not now!" One of the paramedics gave him a little push.  "Please 
don't upset the lady.  She's going to need surgery soon after 
all."

He obeyed.  A gust off a passing car snatched at his robe.  

"Wait..." the Momoe began with a bit of a wheeze.  "I need to 
tell him... it's important."

So Omi was once more allowed to approach the gurney, something it 
turned out he really didn't need to do.

"YOU'RE BOTH FIRED AND EVICTED! I WANT YOU OUT BY THE TIME I'M 
OUT OF THE HOSPITAL!"

"But Momoe-sama!"

"YOU HEARD ME!" And then, as she was hoisted into the ambulance.  
"Ohhhhhhh kimochi warui! What an awful day! First the two good 
ones and now you... ohhhhhhhhh..."

Which left Omi standing on the curve, baffled and forlorn.

(OOC: KYA! Okama! Atachi ike yo! Okaaaaaaaaama = EWE! Fags! Get 
the hell away from me! FAAAAAAAGS!

Kimochi warui = I feel awful) 

*** 

The ambulance heaved away into traffic all blaring sirens and  
spinning lights. The schoolgirls, now more giggling than 
squealing with glee were still gathered around, entranced by the 
unexpected show they had been treated to.  
 
But Youji didn't care about them, or the old woman, or the fact 
that he was clad only in a towel in public. All he cared about 
was Omi. 
 
With a cocky grin and an arrogant toss of his blond locks, Youji  
clapped a hand on Omi's shoulder and guided him back into the 
shop, where he locked the door behind them and yanked down the 
shade.    The towel around his hips slipped loose, but Youji 
made no attempt to snatch at its sliding ends as he crossed 
the room.  
 
"Oi, Omi!" Youji called as he came up behind him to knead his 
shoulders. "Don't worry, hm? There are other flower shops and 
other apartments. And we do have our other job." 
 
He nuzzled him behind the ear. "Manx and Birman might even help 
us find a new place. I mean, Kritiker's not going to let two of 
their best go homeless.  Damned old bat just's jealous, you know. 
That was probably the most action that table had ever seen the 
whole time she's had it." He chuckled softly, and gave Omi a 
hug. "Unless Aya and Ken..." 
 
"Er...Wait a minute...What do you think she meant by 'First, the 
two good ones...'?"
 
*** 

It had seemed like an eternity there, on the street, snatching at 
his robe, surrounded by a caconophy of girlish words for gay and 
references to many an unsavory Yokai Club Doujinshi.  If their 
laughs had been hours, centuries left him on the street, and the 
ocean of his tears rose with the heat of his warming face.

/ This is all my fault./

Then Youji came. His guilt remained, but the need to weep left 
him with the first caress.  He reached up, scrubbing the unshed 
tears from his eyes, sniffling a little.  That was it.  His heart 
had been quieted.
 
And he leaned back just a bit to brush his hair over his lover's 
nose, and laid his palm against the hand that was working his 
right shoulder.  "I don't think so, Youji-kun.  They don't like 
each other much..."

And then it hit him too. 

"I don't know what she meant I... they're not home, are they?" 

Still cradled by the tender embrace, he turned and glanced among 
the flowers, as if expecting to find their two teammates standing 
there, clad like wood sprites and going about as normally as 
possible.  The realization that Aya and Ken were not about seemed 
alien to him somehow. 

"But that still doesn't explain what Momoe said." He sighed and 
shook his head, accidentally jiggling Youji's nose in the 
process.  "It's all very queer..."

Then he gulped and raised his hand to his brow.  "Oh geez."

***

It really wasn't the time to laugh, but Youji couldn't help it 
then.  He did so with his face pressed against the golden mop of 
his hair.  
 
"Queer. What an appropriate word, Omi. It is a queer situation  
for two queer young men to be in." He snatched at one of Omi's 
hands then and spun him around for a hug.  
 
"We're homeless and jobless and...we've got a mystery on our 
hands."  
 
Youji held him like that for a moment more, cuddling him like he 
was a woolly, stuffed bear. Then he let him go and went back to 
retrieve his towel. Slinging it over his shoulder, he walked 
back to Omi and took him by the hand.  
 
"Come on, Omi. Let's go play detective."  
 
*** 

Omi banished the last of his fears for the moment, and relished 
the cuddle, the smooth chest beneath his face.  The tell-tale 
smell of them both.

"Hmm... to start off with, I'll take Aya's room, and you can take 
Ken's! I'll kiss you for every clue you find!"

Saying that, he wriggled away and bounded up the stairs into the 
quarters of their resident swordsman.  The bed wasn't made.  Had 
Aya ever made his bed? Omi, having otherwise avoided the room, 
had no idea.  But it didn't seen Aya-like.

Aya's sword was still on its shelf.  Aha, so this wasn't a 
mission they were on! Or if it was, it would have to be some 
super-secret one... but then they would all have known about it, 
ironically.  Hmm... there didn't appear to be any info folders 
lying about either.  No, no mission at all.

Aya's trenchcoat he usually wore on such calls remained on its 
hanger.

Just to make sure the computer hadn't been involved, Omi darted 
into the den and tried it.  No, that was ice cold.  Back to Aya's 
room.

That happened to overlook the front of the shop.

"Youji! Ken left his bike behind wherever they went!"

***

"He left more than that behind," called Youji from Ken's room.  
It was clear to him that wherever they had gone, they had left on 
the spur-of-the-moment.  The bed was unmade, the closet door ajar; 
two pair of socks lay on the floor beneath the drawer where Ken 
kept them.  The drawer itself was open and remaining socks had 
been pushed to one side.  

"Man, I don't know what's going on," he muttered as he shut the 
window and locked it. A flick of the curtain and he strode out 
of the room.   

"I know Ken's up for taking off on trips at random, but Aya never 
does that," said Youji, who'd just appeared in Aya's doorway.  
"And Ken would never abandon his bike."  

 
*** 

Omi ran his hands through his hair and sighed.  "Yeah, I know.  
The only time I've ever seen him leave it behind, he was walking 
down to the market for some candy, which if he'd done that, he'd 
be back by now, and I'd be explaining why I had his robe on!"

He took a moment to pace back and forth, looking quite 
distressed, both because of the present situation, and the 
apparent inability of said oversized robe to conceal his form 
with any continuity.  Just then, his eyes caught the gleaming 
digital numbers on Aya's clock.  He gasped.  "It's after one! I 
had no idea it was so late." Something about the faint puzzlement 
of Youji's face bothered him then.  He had to think of something 
else to say.

"You know what, I'm going to go check his bike.  Maybe it's 
broken or something so he couldn't take it.  I'll be right back."

A rather long peck and he went fluttering out the door, down the 
steps, and back onto the street where a few particularly etchi 
young ladies were still camped out, marveling over previous 
events.  He paid them no heed and rather scurried over to the 
curb to see what he could find.

What he did sent him running back inside calling his lover's 
name.

***

After receiving that delicious kiss, Youji had padded into the 
room, to the rumpled bed, and picked up the clock from the 
nightstand. 1 p.m., just like Omi'd said.  
 
So what had happened to his clock?  
 
With a shrug, Youji set Ran's digital on the table, and flopped 
down on the bed. He glanced around the room, wondering what, if 
anything, they were missing, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. 
Just the thing to make a detective's job easier.  
 
Sighing, he scooted back on the bed, his weight resting on his  
elbows...and felt something hard under his left one.  Frowning, 
he sat up and flipped the covers back, and found his first real 
clue: A letter, addressed to Birman in Ran's precise, cramped 
hand. It felt as if he'd left something hard pressed between 
the pages.  He might have dared to open it, but Omi's rising 
voice stopped him.  

"I'm still up here," he called out.  "And I've found something, 
too!"  
 
*** 

"Youji!" Omi cried.  "Youji I..." The note in his hand sagged and 
started to feel like a dead baby bird.  After all, the sight of 
his lover sitting bare on the wrong bed surely wasn't helping the 
matter of his sweaty hands.  "I found this on Ken's bike."

He held it out, sat down beside his lover, and unfolded the 
crumples, letting the loopy, blue pen emerge against the lavender 
paper and Pochacco's pretend pawprints. 
 
[Please find me a good home! -Ken's Bike]
 
"Oh no..." 

***

Youji slipped an arm around him, holding him close. Aya's letter 
he set on the nightstand, face down. Birman would get it, of 
course, but Youji saw no need to show it to Omi now.  
 
Besides, it was clear now what they'd done.  
 
He took the crumpled note from Omi's hand and laid it on the  
nightstand. His fingers going directly to his hair to stroke it.  
Stroke his cheek.  
 
"It's okay, Omi. It's okay." 
 
He looked around the room, thinking of the surly redhead who had  
occupied it. The one who always nagged him about something or  
other.  
 
Yeah, Fujimiya Aya was a damn bastard.  And he was going to miss 
him terribly.  
 
He ducked down to kiss the top of Omi's head. "How about a  
shower, and then some breakfast, and then...I'll call Manx. What 
do you say?" 
 
*** 

With a deep sigh, Omi reached over and mirrored the touches which 
had befallen him.  "Alright, Itoshi.  But only if you get in it 
with me!"

/It's true! If Aya and Ken had been home, then I wouldn't dare 
ask but.../

"They're not..." he  bit his lip a bit, relaxing he had actually 
spoken.  To take his mind and his lover's mind away from that, he 
got up and started tugging both of them to the bathroom.  

The bathroom that they no longer had any right to call their own; 
in a house that they two were utterly alone in.  Now and forever 
perhaps, if it would have still been their house.

Like a honeymoon in limbo.

"Ah, one moment..." he finally added though, just in front of the 
Ohora door.  He waved and stepped aside into the water closet for 
a moment... 

Suddenly, he couldn't have peed if his life had depended on it.

Admittedly, it was a perfectly logical place to hide a note in a 
house occupied by four men.  

Tacked to the wall above the toilet was a piece of paper with 
Pochacco on it.

***

Ken had almost lingered a moment with Ran.  Savil took him away a 
little sooner than he wanted.  Well, he had to follow her 
sometimes, somewhere.

Even if she happened to be the littlest one he had ever seen.

As he watched her close the door to the innocuous little room 
where they had shut themselves, he asked, "How long have you been 
doing this?"

She winked and flicked one of her pigtails behind her shoulder.  
"You're my very first assignment. I don't exactly work for this 
Villa.  I've just been going to school here."

He knew where she was from.  The name gave it away.  He nodded.  

"You'll be taking us up on the offer? Hmm?"

"Yes, I gotta.  I can't stay away now that you've decided to let 
me come back.  But I..."

"Want to bring your friend? He gets in free too."

Ken raised his eyebrows in surprise.  This WAS one hell of an 
apology offer.  Five years and the both of them could stay on 
Terra all they liked!  "Wow... alright! That's great, but will he 
be your charge or...?"

"Mine because he's yours." A wink.

"Well he calls himself Aya but..."

"His real name is Ran Fujimiya.  You just found that out last 
night."

This lead to quite a lengthy pause.  /Holy shit, the secretary 
wasn't kidding! This is giving me the creeps./ But that all 
vanished with a long, assuaging smile on her part, as she 
stretched her arms behind her head.

"Do you know Carly? I was just wonderin' if you knew..."

"Hey! I can't tell you anything like that until you ARE back.  I 
talk to her- of course I do! I'm from... well, you know."

/Valdemar.../ Saying the names of places on Terra while still on 
Antiterra was almost as taboo as telling Terran secrets.  But he 
knew, recognized the name from one of the stories he'd been read 
as Kaze's.

Which brought up question after question and a sharp pain through 
his fingers and the places on his body the betrayer had once 
liked to kiss above all others.  Kaze's membership had been 
charged to the Heralds of Valdemar.  Once...

In a much more solemn tone he asked one more question of Savil, 
who stood, patient, but fixing him over and over again with those 
two blue eyes.  "What made you all suddenly decide to take me 
back?"

How polite of her to let him finish.  "We know."

"About..."

"...him."

"Then you know I'm the one that...?"

"Of course!" She laughed and the tension in him shattered like 
cold glass.  "You're mine. I'm supposed to know these things! I 
also know there's a nice surprise waiting for you.  Something 
that wasn't yours is now."

His eyes grew wide.  "But you aren't gonna tell me what that is."

"Can't.  Doesn't exist here." Oh, did she ever grin!

Ken meanwhile glanced the two PSX games under his arm- two he'd 
once played all the way to the end.  "Hey, I don't know if you 
have a platform or anything, but you can have these if you want."

"Really?" The little girl skipped over to him and, with her hands 
clasped behind her back, bent down to have a look at the offered 
jewel cases, which he pushed joshingly in her direction.  "Wow!  
Sure! My brother has one he let's me borrow to play Atelier Marie.  
Domo arigatou gozaimasu!" She bowed again.  "Now, I have a 
feeling Aya's out there needing dusting, and it'd be rude not to 
let him in on the travel plans.  I'm done if you're done!"

She held the door for him and just like that, they were back in 
the office.

(OOC: Atelier Marie is a Japanese little girl's game about a 
potion maker.)   
 
*** 

It was the sound of his name being called that stirred him from 
his nap.  At once, Ran woke, blinked for a moment at the fruit of 
a dead man's dreaming, and rose to his feet, fighting back a yawn 
with the back of his hand.  Ken and his young friend were coming 
towards him, both beaming, and very softly, he smiled in return.  
Ran noticed Ken's PSX games resting in her dainty hands, but 
neither reacted nor commented upon the switch.  
 
"Well..." he began as he stepped around the loveseat and started  
towards them, "I trust that everything is all right?"  
 
***  

"Everything's just great!" Ken said.  "We can leave as soon as 
it's evenin', if that's alright with you."

"That's a long time to wait!" Savil suddenly remarked.  /And why 
did you come so early anyway? Most Terrans aren't even up at 
this unholy hour! I just am since I'm little and I have to go to 
school.  Poor ninny, he really needs to go home./  But this gave 
her a bit of an idea, just the same.  Why, if she had been 
looking forward to something all week, maybe they would like it 
too? Surely Ken would.

Even though he was presently telling her, "We'll be alright.  
We've waited longer."

"Welllll, actually, if you get bored, I've got soccer practice 
after school and it'd be really cool of you two wanted to come 
play with us, or just watch.  You can come to the field at three 
if want.  In the mean time, I have to get back to my physics 
class.  Tomorrow's my lecture on gravitational waves.  Ja!"

And with that, she skipped out the door, leaving one confused Aya 
and one somewhat frightened Ken.

"I guess they weren't kidding about the gifted part.  Wow..." And 
then with a sigh, he turned back to Ran, patting his back a bit.  
"It's up to you.  I know how you feel about kids."

*** 
 
"No, I don't like kids." Ran looked from Ken to the door where 
Savil had just passed through. "But she certainly isn't like 
other kids. Isn't...common."  
 
He shrugged.  "Anyway, I wouldn't mind watching you play soccer.  
We probably have a bit of time before then," he said, searching 
for a clock and finding the walls bare of such objects.  "Or I 
suppose we do.  What do you want to do until then?" 
 
*** 

Ken mused on this, but took a moment, to comb at his lover's hair 
with his fingers.  

"Well, we could go for a walk, or they usually lettcha sit in on 
classes if you ask real nice.  Hmm..." then to the office lady. 
"How's your library?"

"Twice the size of the average highschool's, but there's no one 
in there this time of day, or almost no one."

"Well," Ken turned back to his Ran, "I know we just were to one, 
but we could always go hide out there if you want some quiet."

***

With a half-smile, Ran stepped to one side, nodding for Ken to go 
ahead of him.  
 
"The library it is."  
 
*** 

"Alright then. I'm pretty sure we passed it on the way in."  
Actually, he wasn't at all, but with the halls empty a walk AND a 
trip to the library probably wouldn't hurt. 

He held Ran's hand all the way there, when they found 'there' 
among the bright and echoing halls.  It was a bit of a stuffy 
place, but light enough, for it stood as an extension of the 
building rather than a mere compartment of it.   A few skylights 
broke the ceiling, and the skylights themselves were faceted to 
look uniformly shattered.

The librarian looked up, watched them for a moment, and went back 
to her work.

Almost no students had chanced the place that afternoon.  Ken 
lead Ran to a little study nook behind the volumes of Latin 
poetry and their bad translations.  

"I don't know... d'you feel less nervous here? This isn't where I 
came through my first time there, but I was pretty much a mess."

That was the truth.  He'd had such a time with... banish the 
name, the thought, the golden eyes.

Ran's purple ones were much prettier.  And his red, red hair.  
Ken reached over to pet it once again, and was finally 
reminded of what of what Ran's reaction reminded him of.  
A kitten.  "I'm so glad you came with me..." 

***

A quiet look of delight lit up Ran's face.  "Are you?  I'm glad.  
But...you still haven't told me exactly what's going on.  Why 
can't we just leave now?"  

***

"Well," Ken began, "I guess the long and the short of it is the 
same. It's just somethin' they do about where we're going. It's 
all about getting' into it and lettin' go, these little games. 
This wouldn'ta seemed special if we'd just up and driven there 
ourselves."

Ken sighed and leaned a little closer, his finger tips still lost 
in their red silk.  "Well, for me, it woulda, but I've been there 
before.  It's like my home." And then he allowed his lips to 
hover ever so close to his lover's ears.  "Terra that is."

Before Ran had a chance to react, he leaned back, and reached for 
his copy of Ada, which he thumbed through for a few seconds.  
That he managed to recover the page quickly as if he'd owned this 
unsullied copy all his life.  "It's all about... a little sense 
of wonder."

And then he read:

[Revelation can be more perilous than Revolution.  Sick minds 
identified the notion of a Terra planet with that of another 
world and this "Other World" got confused not only with the "Next 
World" but with the Real World in us in us and beyond us.  *Our* 
enchanters, *our* demons are noble iridescent creatures with 
translucent talons and mightily beating wings; but in the 
eighteen-sixties the New Believers urged one to imagine a sphere 
where our splendid friends had been utterly degraded, had become 
nothing but vicious monsters... ]

***

Ken's voice died away, and Ran sat quietly in its wake, pondering 
the words he'd heard him read.  But his thoughts didn't linger 
long upon the images of Western demons, but upon the worry that 
had lurked at the edges of his thoughts, somewhat blunting his 
incipient joy.  

"What if you've made a mistake, Ken, by bringing me here?"  

*** 

Ken closed the book.

"Ran I... I didn't know how you I..." His eyes fell all the way 
to those two ever so fair hands that had been tugged away. 
"Ran... you can go back if you really want.  I won't keep you 
here. But I think... *I* know I haven't made a mistake.  I want 
you with me.  I know they'll want you back there, but you 
probably don't believe me or any of this."

His throat had gone dry.  A little cough took him and he stifled 
any sighs.  

"There are places where we don't have to be what we think we are 
in Antiterra.  And besides I..."

But the words faltered all together then.  It was all he could do 
to snatch up one of those fair hands and place it against his one 
chest with a sigh.  

***


"But that's just it, Ken," said Ran. "I can't go back. I don't 
want to, not when you're going to be elsewhere. I'd...I'd be 
alone for sure if I did.  Cause you see, Ken, I..." 

Pausing, Ran scooted his chair back, then bowed his head as if 
in apology.  His voice was just as soft and contrite.  

"I love you."  
 
*** 
 
"Ran I..."

If the floor had fallen out from Ken, he never would have noticed 
it.  If the skylight had shattered, he wouldn't have cared.  He 
was blind all over with morning and a little swell of gleaming, 
weeping moonlight in his heart.

/Did you ever expect to hear him say that? Even after last 
night?/ 

"... I won't lettcha be alone anymore! Not again.  I promise.  
And it's not true! You got somethin' inside you.  You are 
someone.  You gotta to be."

And then it was as if time, for they were still on Antiterra 
after all, had broken, and they were back at the night before.  
Even before the shy moments on the bed, far before the door that 
had broken just for them.

They were back at the table.  At supper.  And Ken did more or 
less what he'd wanted to then.

He scooted his chair up beside Ran's and draped his arms over his 
shoulders, tipping the crimson head against his collarbone.

"'cause I feel that way too.  About you."

It was so sweet now, not to be afraid any longer.

*** 

Upon hearing Ken's confession, Ran dared to breathe again, 
filling his lungs with the scent of Ken's skin.  Forgetting 
caution or decorum, he wrapped his arms around the other boy's 
body, and held him as close as he could.  

"I've wanted to hear you say that to me for a long, long time."  


*** 
 
So the super nova had come at last, the one event in the cosmos 
that was suppose to wreck havoc on the very threads of the earth 
and the space there, and already it felt like Terra.

Ken shook inside with the gravitational waves.  (It seemed like 
ages had passed now- was it already the next day? Did Savil stand 
before her class giving that lecture?) But forever, no, forever 
would not be long enough to feel Ran against his neck.  And still 
he quavered, remembering not Savil the girl, but Savil the wise 
mage in a book read to him years ago.  The one who told those two 
lovers, warned them about feeding off of each other.

/Vanyel and Tylendyl.  But I'm not like that.  He's not like 
that./

Ken leaned down and kissed his way up his lover's neck, across 
his cheek, and finally onto his lips.  Just a little.  A flutter.

"I just wantcha to be happy."

***

"I'm beginning to think that's possible," Ran said, and he leaned 
in again to kiss him.  But the caress of lips he offered lacked 
the timidity of the first, and just a measure of the passion 
he'd long held for Ken.  

*** 

Ken smoothed his lips over the softness of Ran's face in another 
line of kiss.  He chuckled a little back in his throat, tilting 
his head to change just how they fell.

Savil, standing patiently off to one side, waved.

Ken spluttered. "How long have you been...?"

"Not too long!" The little herald replied, turning her eyes away 
as she stretched her arms behind her head.  "I'm not supposed to 
interrupt after all.  I won't tell anyone."

"Don't tell me.  It's..."

"Three O'clock." Said with a gesture to the yellow and blue 
soccer uniform she had now donned... specifically, what appeared 
to be a brand-new set of goalie equipment.  She reached behind 
her back then and held out a bundle of white clothing, dotted 
with two dark blue bandanas, much like the one she wore on her 
own left arm.  "So you don't get sweaty.  I brought some for you 
to, Aya, if you wanna play too."

"Hey thanks..." Ken offered.  Mostly to her.  Somewhat to Ran as 
he petted his lover's hair just because he could.

"Just don't change in here." Another wink and she scampered off.  
"The soccer field's out in the back, it's not hard to find.  And 
you don't mind actually being out on the field, do you?"

"No..."  

/Good!/ thought Savil.  /Because I'm goalie and I'll be damned if 
I'll give that up!/ She smiled, not smirked.

***

Ran pulled out of his embrace, feeling rather uncomfortable over 
being discovered--and by a child!--and handed the uniform Savil 
had given him over to Ken. 
 
"I'm not trying to be difficult, and I don't want to offend that   
little girl, but I don't think I should play. I never have  
before, and I would only cause them to lose."  
 
*** 

Ken didn't seem distressed by this in the least, or too 
heartbroken.  He was still smiling when he answered.  "Hey, 
that's just fine! I thought maybe you wanted to try gettin' 
dirty..."

/Ooops! Quick save! Quick save!/

"Since you told me you never played in the dirt as a kid and 
all." He shrugged, more for himself.  "But just so you know, they 
ARE all little girls- most of 'em probably smaller than her and 
you, you being a grownup, of course; you're the coolest thing in 
the world to a kid."

As he stood, he pressed his lips just once to Ran's forehead.

"But Savil isn't my friend, she's my Herald.  Our Herald.  It's 
not quite the same.  More like... an honorary mother."

/Even if she still has to go to bed before we do, eat her 
vegetables and makes sure she washes behind her ears./ 

"Just a sec."

Actually, it was more like a minute before he returned, clad in 
the white uniform that had been handed to him.  Being in the J-
league had made him a master of quick changes if nothing else.  

/This is really, really, thin... I hope Ran can't see my thong! 
I'll never live it down./

But he appeared at the door to the library, to find Ran hovering 
near the poetry section, waiting for him.

"Let's go then!"

*** 

Hand and hand they wound towards the double doors leading to the 
athletic field, Ran letting Ken go a little ahead of him so he 
could sneak another look at him.  He thought Ken looked appealing 
in his uniform--the white setting off his tanned skin just so.  
And then, of course, those marvelous legs of his were on d
isplay--a sight he very rarely got to see.  

And then...there was the black thong he wore, a faint shadow 
under the white of his soccer shorts.  That more than anything 
else snared Ran's interest the most, and he hoped Ken wouldn't 
notice his intent study of his ass.  

***

The array of little girls on the field however, did not fail to 
notice Ran's face.  Being as most Heralds, even those more or 
less still in training, had taken specific classes on how to read 
even the most subtle emotion, they all began to giggle, a 
reaction Ken interpreted as sheer embarrassed glee at getting to 
play soccer with a man twice their ages and which their coach saw 
as a sign of distinct immaturity.  As such, she tooted at them 
quite vigorously.  

Ken hung away from the acre of emerald and girls for a moment, 
assuring that Ran was comfortably seated.

The coach, a small, sinewy woman with bobbed auburn hair, 
summoned her charges to her.  

"Alright, no drilling today."

A deafening chorus of chirpy "yay"s ensued.

"We're just going to play.  But not for fun! This is still 
practice and that man..." at which she pointed to Ken, "... a 
former J-league player.  His name is Ken, and he's a lot better 
than all of you put together, so it'll be a real challenge, 
understand? And you'd better not wuss-out in front of him, 
right?" Unbelievably, this was uttered with the utmost fondness.  
"He'll be on Blue team and I'll play for Yellow."

"AWWWWW!" said the yellow team.

The coach pushed her lips with displeasure.  "HEY! None of that 
now! Chins up and let's get started already!"

Ken waved to Ran and jogged out onto the field at last, where 
Akiko from the office surrendered her spot to him, and plunked 
down on the bench instead, at a respectable distance from Ran.

The other girls- they all smelled like sunshine, shimmered like 
pixies... he looked out across the field and all he could see 
were there heads and the feathers of their hear flitting in the 
breeze.  

Ken's little boys... no! No, these were little girls.

One of whom booted the ball right into his stomach as soon as the 
whistle blew.

"OOF!"

***

Youji, meanwhile, was fiddling with the knobs in the shower, 
trying to get it just right-not too hot, and definitely not too 
cold.  After all, he was about to have his beautiful little lover 
under his hands again. All soaped up and wet and... 
 
/Watch it, Kudou! You'll have an erection before Omi even gets in  
here./ 
 
As a diversion of a sort, Youji flicked his hand under the 
streaming water and then turned to get his favorite shower gel 
out from under the cabinet, something lotion-y in feel and 
lavender scented. Then he padded to the doorway and called to 
Omi in his most seductive voice.  
 
*** 

Omi found himself in the hall.  He had no memory of leaving the 
water closet, no memory of turning off the light, no memory of 
adjusting his robe.

He just ended up there, holding the note, and feeling nothing but 
the paper in his hand.

"Youji-kun I... the wall I... I didn't read it.  I can't make 
myself... would you...?"

His quavering hand held out the paper, and his eyes remained dull 
and dark.  Not wobbling with tears.  He closed them and listened 
to the shower run.

***

With a frown, Youji opened the letter and read, "Aya and I are 
all right. Farewell, Ken." 

Silently, Youji read the brief note again, glanced at the back as 
if he hoped to find more messages waiting to be read.  Slowly, he 
folded it up, and handed it back to Omi.  

"All these years together, all the things we've coped with, and 
that's all we get in the end.  I can understand Aya's reticence, 
but Ken's?"  

Omi made no reply, and Youji, with a worried look for him, 
slipped his fingers under his chin and tilted his face up 
to his.  

"Come on.  It's going to be okay."  

And with a whisper of the boy's name, Youji kissed him.  
 
*** 

And then he was Omi again, after a few long, long moments in the 
void where the nightmares so long had hidden.  Why did they 
return now, and more than ever, more than just a flitting ache 
more than...

But then there was Youji, and he remembered the dream that had 
banished the beasts of his unconscious once again. 

"Itoshi?" he murmured back to his own name.  "I'm OK... it's just 
a little... scary for me.  You know how I am with that.  I'm 
sorry."

He returned all of the kisses of his lover with one long, deep 
and sticky one that lasted until he realized the shower was still 
running.  

"Well, we can't do anything about it until we're dressed, and 
we're not getting dressed just standing here in the hallway.  
Come on, Youji-kun! I'll wash your back!"

And he ushered the both of them into the shower, towel, robe and 
all landing on the floor.

***

Ah, but it felt so good, standing under the steaming spray with 
his  Omi at his back. Lazy swipes of a sudsy cloth across his 
neck and shoulders.  
 
/I lost you there, Omi, and it scared the hell out of me!/  
 
He dipped his head under the water and soaked it, preparing it 
for a dollop of bright blue, Freesia scented shampoo, something 
new he'd bought just the day before. It smelled so clean and 
sweet and fresh.  
 
He scrubbed at his scalp, all over, then dunked his head under 
the spray again. Watched the creamy suds flow down his body in 
rivulets to the drain.  
 
"Ah, that feels good!"  
 
He raised his head, and, eyes closed, let the water course over 
his face. Ducked his head again and wiped his face with his hand.  
 
"You're next, Omi!" 
 
***
 
That his lover was allowed to bathe restored his standing as a 
mere mortal in Omi's mind: not the warm shadow, the seraph, the 
body that so willingly accepted his caresses.  It made him 
remember he had a body too, and he could deal with it.  If he had 
to.

He was just about to reach his fingers into the kinky golden 
threads on Youji's crotch when Youji went for the shampoo.

"I am, I mean I... OK."

It was rather shyly took his place under the showerhead, feeling 
his bangs faint into his eyes almost as once.  

/Didn't you expect him to offer to wash you too? Isn't that what 
he's supposed to...? No, I guess I didn't... then again, I never 
really saw myself in the shower with anyone this morning... 
Especially not.../

And he wondered: "Youji-kun? Were you ever with another boy... 
before me?" 

***

Youji twirled the milky-brown bar around and around the cloth 
until the rag was thick with foam, all the while eyeing the 
smooth expanse of flesh before him.  "No, Omi," he said as he 
began to lather up his back. "There's never been another boy."  
 
The cloth came to rest on the small of Omi's back, just above 
the  tempting swell of his rear, only to fall with slurp onto 
the tile floor as Youji wrapped his arms around him.  Lightly, 
he dabbed his tongue into the hollow of his ear.    
 
"You're the only one I've ever wanted."  


*** 

Omi gingerly snatched at soapy arm that encircled him and giggled 
at the tongue against his ear.

"You're not mad I asked, are you? I didn't mean it like that I 
just... I guess I just wanted to know.  I..."

He found himself turning spinning on his toes, embracing Youji's 
neck, forgetting the soap dripping into his eyes.

"Don't woirry.  I'm not jealous."  And he rather fell into half 
chuckles- the sounds of blushing sans pink cheeks. "Anyway, to be 
fair, I've never liked girls, but there were days I wished I was 
one.  So maybe you'd go out with me.  And here you like me 
anyway."

***

"You felt that way? Aw, Omi...I wish I'd seen it sooner...." 
 
Youji slid his hands up Omi's back, grazing his ribs and shoulder  
blades with tickling fingers, only to tangle said digits into 
Omi's sodden hair.  
 
"I'm glad you aren't a girl. I'm glad you're who you are." 
 
His heavy-lidded gaze fell upon the boy's softly parted lips, tip 
of his tongue moistening in anticipation of a kiss, which was 
promptly delivered. Deep and slow and gentle. 
 
"And I don't merely like you, Omi."  
 
*** 
 
"Youji-kun..." Omi complained. "I didn't mind waiting. And if I 
did, I don't now. " Asking this, he clasped his hands behind his 
back and ran his toes over his lover's ankle.
 
"I adore you. Even if I seem kinda... kinda unhappy sometimes." 
 
Having said his peace, he reached up and pawed at the fingers in 
his hair.  "Even if it seems funny to everyone else. I'm not 
afraid of that part of me. Just everything else! Even if that's 
only when people decide it's fun to stare at me in the middle of 
the street while my robe blows open." 

***

"Afraid of everything, are you?"  he cried, reaching for the 
shampoo and squirting a good-sized blob onto his palm; he worked 
it into Omi's hair, whipping it into a frothy lather.  "Well, 
we'll just make sure your Badtz-Maru nightlight is on when we 
go to bed, and if you wake up in the middle of night, then I'll 
rock you to sleep."  This last was said with a leer.  

"And no matter how much you cry, I'll love you too, Omi."  

Smacking him soundly on the ass, Youji stepped out of the shower.  
He took up residence against one tiled wall, eyes trained on 
Omi, grinning as he gestured for him to continue.   

"Did you know I was a voyeur, Omi?"

***

"Well, Youji-kun," Omi began then, rather striding forward again, 
as if unable to exist for too long outside of his lover's shadow.  
"I did figure that out as soon as we moved in together. After 
all, you need to learn to be more careful with your laundry! 
Hentai magazines don't wash very well."

Saying this, he lovingly tweaked Youji on the end of his nose, 
and found himself obliged to evade the snatching arms the 
followed him out of the shower. He dived for safety on the other 
side of the bathroom, scampering and flattening himself against 
the tile the way a squirrel makes its way around an unfamiliar 
tree.  

"And well, itoshi-pi-pa-kun, you can watch me make breakfast now 
if you want."

And he took off down the hall, dripping, cackling, and otherwise 
naked.

(OOC: In this case, Pi-pa = peeper)

***

Hastily drying his damp hair with a towel he'd snatched in 
passing, Youji tore off after him without a care for how much 
noise he might make as he pounded down the stairs.  Omi was 
quicker than him, though, and reached the kitchen first.  As 
Youji stormed into the kitchen, Omi picked up the tea kettle 
they kept on the stove, and held it up as if it to shield 
himself from an attack.  From his position in the doorway, 
Youji began to laugh.  Grinning, Omi banged the kettle onto 
the stovetop, and, turning so as to give Youji a clear view 
of his ass, he bent to rummage through their odd collection 
of pans.  

"I swear, Omi," he purred, fixing him with his sleepy stare.  
"You're going to give me a heart attack."

***

"Oh, I wasn't planning to overdo it that much!" Omi winked to his 
lover in the reflection of a cookie sheet.  "I just wanted to pay 
you back for all the times I had to watch you bending over your 
Cattleyas, not to mention having to hide those soggy etchi books 
from the others!"  he didn't dare say the names just yet.  
Perhaps he would go the rest of his life without uttering them 
ever again.

How long would that be? He wondered...

"And if anything *does* give you a heart attack, it would be 
these!" His line accented with the revealing of a box of chewy-
cheesy teriyaki chicken bits from the freezer.

***

"Teriyaki Chicken Bits?"  Youji put his hands over his heart in 
mock horror.  "Ah, I'm sunk!"

Sharing a grin, Youji took a seat at the table and Omi began to 
fuss with the preparations for the meal, hustling to and fro.  
All while Youji raptly watched him.  

"Mmm...I don't think I'll ever get sick of looking at you, Omi.  
I propose we do this every morning when we get our new place.  
What do you say?"

***

Omi applauded this suggestion most ecstatically.  "I'd love to! 
But on one condition:" this drawled as he sauntered over, saucer 
of teabags in hand, "you do the cooking sometimes so I get to 
watch you!"

Rather than wait for an answer, he made a production of preparing 
the first course of their "breakfast", performing fantastic 
chopstick feats with the chicken.  For an encore (and to make up 
for what he spilled on the floor) he added a pair of potato 
croquettes, and took forever dancing the entire tray over to the 
toaster oven. 

However, a quick jiggle of the soy sauce bottle revealed it 
rather empty.  No matter, he only put a dash in the miso soup.  
The rice in the cooker was still gooey and soft (bless the people 
at fuzzy logic!).  Now for the vegetable.

The obvious choice was cucumber but...

... he couldn't claim to be particularly hungry for that.  So he 
set about shredding some lettuce, destined to be crowned with big 
dollops of QP mayonnaise, which he laved on so it made curlicues.  
Then onto the tea and finding "their" cups among the strange 
assortment Weiss had collected over the years.  With Youji's 
golden dragon and his own Sakura and gundam-spangled mug balanced 
on their only serving plate with the rest of breakfast, he 
sauntered to his lover's lap and spilled not one drop of hot 
water on the way.
 
*** 
"Ah, now this is how I like to have my breakfast," murmured 
Youji.  He plunked one tea bag into his cup, then laid that 
hand back on Omi's downy thigh to pet it.    

"Mm hmm, Omi.  I would be more than happy to oblige you," he 
breathed, leaning forward to kiss him behind his ear.  "More 
than happy to oblige you in anything you might request."  

***

"I don't really want anything else, Youji-kun." Omi said. And 
then, with a grin added, "But I'll let you know if I think of 
anything!"

/For now... no, it's too soon.  I hope I'm not as achy by this 
evening.  I don't think I can wait much longer than that!/
 
He shifted a bit so his sore bottom rested at a more comfortable 
angle against his lover's thighs.  In the end he gave up casting 
around for some semblance of an innocent position, and seducer 
though he didn't quite feel, leaned back against Youji's chest 
and caressed his lover's wet hair.
 
"Actually, umm... if you wouldn't mind making the phone call to 
Manx after breakfast.  She always babies me *so* damn much."

Saying that, he lifted a sliver of his croquette to his lips and 
took forever to nibble on it.

***

"Mm.  Yes," he replied between bites of cheesy chicken, "I was 
going to call her after we've eaten.  She doesn't really come out 
until dark anyway, our oh-so-beautiful Manx."  

And he smirked and took a sip of his tea.  It was Strawberry.  

***

What could Omi do in response to this but pout? 

"Hey, at least we still have one person who'll be mortified when 
she finds out!"

But for the mean time, pout and all, he flashed Youji a 
brilliant, and rather mayonnaise-y victory sign which he was 
shortly obliged to lick or get QP in places where QP generally 
ought not go.  Though the mess he had made of himself presented 
him with the question of many more indelicacies not as easily 
over-looked as stray sauce.   

"Umm Youji-kun..." he fidgeted with his shoulders in his most 
uncomfortable manner.  "err... are we gonna tell her just WHY 
Momoe passed out and evicted us or are we gonna... hope she 
doesn't ask?"

***

The chopsticks left Youji's mouth with a tiny, nearly inaudible 
slurp.  

"Tell Manx of the tremendous temper the truth?" he exclaimed, 
chewing and swallowing the bit of potato he'd just popped into 
his mouth.  "Are you serious?"  He shook his head and reached 
around Omi for his tea.  "Oh, no.  We are going to lie!"  

"Question is," he added, eagerly pinching up a bit of lettuce.  
"What do we tell her?  Thieves?  Rats?  The teapot was flying 
around the room?"

***

Omi pursed his lips together and swayed from side to side with 
the ripples of his thoughts.

"Well... how about a mouse? In the teapot? Most obachans are 
afraid of mice, and we could say she's mad at us for being pigs! 
That we're shameful people to have in her house... Well, shameful 
that way and not the other."

And then he heaved a sigh and gobbled up some tofu his last sip 
of his soup had stranded on the bottom of his bowl.  "Even though 
I'm not sure if Momoe-san really *IS* afraid of mice."

He dipped his chopsticks into his dish and fished out the last 
square of tofu, which he held up to Youji's lips as small 
offering.  "I'd give up a hundred Momoes for you... ten Kens and 
an Aya."

***

"Ah, ha!" said Youji slyly.  "I always knew you were more partial 
to Aya than anyone else."  

With a dig of his elbow in Youji's ribs, Omi opened his mouth to 
reply, but Youji silenced him with a drawn-out kiss.  He didn't 
let him go until he felt Omi's body relax against his own.  

"The mouse in the teapot sounds good to me.  And we'll add the 
bit about her hating us for keeping a filthy house.  Manx'll 
believe that I think.  Four guys in one house--such things were 
bound to happen."  

He chuckled.  "And, of course, she already knows I'm shameful."  

The cup landed on the table with a distinct tap, and Youji 
wrapped his other arm around Omi.  

"But then you do too, hm, Omi?"

He dropped a kiss on his shoulder and pulled him a little closer, 
his hands wandering aimlessly again.  "Mmm... No pressure.  I 
just can't stop myself from touching you.  And since, you are on 
my lap..."

***

Omi leaned over for a not-so-playful kiss which happened to 
involve his sucking nosily on Youji's tongue. "Touch me all you 
want. Just so long as I can do the same to you..." His words 
trailed off as he snuggled up to his lover's chest, pressing his 
hands between then, letting his fingers dart just beneath his 
arms.

And then he nuzzled him again with a deep, dark sigh.  "And I 
might be only seventeen, but I know the difference between a 
lusty touch and an I-love-you touch.  Mmm... it's just so nice... 
all of this... you..."

But reaching up to nibble Youji's ear, he found himself stopping 
cold.

From this vantage, after all, he could see the kitchen quite 
well...

"Youji-kun! But the house isn't dirty! We'll have to mess it up 
before she gets here!"

***

A long, heavy sigh came from Youji at that, and his hands stopped 
their tickling race down Omi's side. It was just what he'd 
dreaded--Omi's painstaking attention to detail coming into play. 

/Ah, yes! Thank you, Hidaka Ken for being such a damn neat 
freak./

His eyes wandered over to the chair where Ken always liked to 
sit--the one which stood nearest the window--and he bit his lip, 
remembering how the morning sunlight would hit Ken from behind, 
turning his dark hair copper, his skin golden. Remembering how 
Aya would gaze at him when he thought no one was paying 
attention. 

His expression softened a little in a smile, and he gave Omi one 
last pat on his hip. 

"You take the bathroom, I'll take the living room, and we'll both 
do the kitchen." 

***

"Right!" Omi threw him a mock salute and leapt up, gathering the 
breakfast dishes with a skill even the most experienced waitress 
would have envied.

These were originally headed to the dishwasher, but ended up 
sitting beside the sink in the most precarious arrangement Omi 
could manage on short notice.  Suddenly struck with inspiration, 
the younger of the two remaining Weiss members went upstairs, 
threw on a very, very tight pair of denim cutoffs he usually wore 
alone in his room, and tore down the street to the nearest soda 
machine.  There, he purchased one Coke, one Peach Fanta, two 
Grape Fantas, two Calpis Waters and a Pocari Sweat.  The Peach 
Fanta he somehow managed to drink on his jogging trip bag with 
the other chilly cans pressed entirely too tightly to his bare 
chest.  He left most them by the living room door for Youji to 
use, except for the Coke and his own empty can.  Then he doubled 
back and tracked some muddy water from the shop into the hallway. 

As for that Coke, he plugged up the drain and poured it into the 
sink basin, where it was allowed to ferment during the rest of 
his duties.  It left a wonderful brown stain.

"Forgive me Momoe-san." He said solemnly to the shower.  Then he 
doused its walls with shampoo that left big, sticky, green marks 
in their wake.  It was Ken's actually, not Youji's beloved 
Freesia, which he spared during the ravaging moments of uncapping 
every single bottle in the room.  

As for the tub, he yanked some hair from his own hairbrush and 
gummed it into the drain fixture with some soap.  He really had 
liked soaking in it a lot, and so spared it otherwise.  The rest 
of the hair he tore up and decked the floor and vanity with.

As for towels, he soaked a few and carelessly cast them about the 
entire room.  Then, for additional realism, he added a wet towel 
to his own room, flung the now be-crushed Peach Fanta can against 
the wall, upset his computer disks, and wrung the last wet towel 
out over Ken's window to make it nice and spotty.  Otherwise, he 
found himself quite pleased with the state of Siberian's room.

/So you trashed the place before leaving? Arigatou, Ken-kun./

Aya's room got a wet towel too, one right in the middle of the 
bed. 

But, as for his coup de gras the bathroom, he took everyone's 
toothpaste tubes and squeezed them so they appeared to have been 
emptied from the improper middle as opposed to the bottom.  He 
also left all of the caps off when he was done. 

***

Ah, the living room.  How many pleasurable hours had he spent 
there, both alone and with his latest conquests?  It was with a 
dreamy sigh that Youji entered said room, and looked around 
slowly, as if he were trying to commit every detail to loving 
memory.  

Then he popped the top on one of the cans of Grape Fanta he'd 
brought with him and upended it over the carpet with a whoop of 
delight; waved it around so that the deep violet, sour smelling 
liquid fell across the green carpet in drunken splatters.  Then 
he dropped the can to the floor and kicked it under the coffee 
table.  

After that, it was a study in chaos.  

The neatly folded newspaper on the table was snatched up and 
pulled apart and scattered about in a wide swathe beside the 
room's sole armchair.  The sofa's throw pillows were torn out of 
their corners and tossed about the room.  

And then, after donning the pair of beat up, black boots which he 
kept by the door for impromptu trips to the market, he padded 
back into the living room with a smile towards the bathroom where 
his lover was at work.  

A lamp--a vomit green glass ginger jar one of his exs had given 
him--wound up in shards, thrown there more than pushed.  He'd 
always hated the damn thing anyway. Youji nudged the emerald 
slivers around with his toe, smirking.  Then he looked around 
the room, thinking that it needed something which blared his 
name in neon letters.  

And then it came to him.  

With an wicked look of delight, Youji stumped over to the sofa 
again and, crouched down, began to sort under the cushions until 
he found what he was looking for: his nudie magazines.  

He stood up, grinning like a jack-a-lantern, and started to thumb 
through the one on the top of the thin pile.  Leering at the 
beautiful centerfold, he tossed the magazine on the sofa and 
arranged it so it looked as if it had been recently read.  

"Insult my boyfriend and throw him out on the street will you?  
Ha!"  

He draped another one in the middle of the coffee table, again 
artfully arranged, then went to do the same to the third.  When 
he saw the cover, Youji froze.  It wasn't a girlie magazine, and 
it wasn't his.  Not that he didn't have any which featured men, 
because he did.  But he kept those in a box under his bed, away 
from prying eyes.  

/So whose is this, hm?/ He smirked as he slipped it under his arm.  
/Another little mystery./

Singing a Gackt song softly under his breath, Youji thumped over 
to where the other soda cans awaited him.  He laid the magazine 
down and picked up the other can of Grape Fanta and started to 
shake it as he walked back to the center of the room.  

With a flip of thumb, an amethystine shower rained down, coating 
nearly every piece of furniture around him as Youji's voice 
swelled in song.

***

Omi was in the middle of scraping toast crumbs around the kitchen 
floor, when he heard someone singing in the living room, which 
happened to be rather peculiar as no one had ever dared sing in 
that house, especially the living room.  Well, not since the 
night everyone, particularly Youji's latest conquest, had begged 
Ken to cease his dreadfully off key rendition of "Let's Go to 
Bed".

But that had been more than a year ago, and latest conquest for 
Youji had always been closer to "that conquest which appears in 
the next five minutes".  Besides, the present possessor of that 
honor and that ignominy happened to be him.  If there had been a 
clean pot left in that kitchen, Omi would have stopped to admire 
himself in it, but presently, he made due with the spaces between 
the greasy bubbles that hovered in the sink. 

Then he got up on his tiptoes and plucked Aya's and Ken's teacups 
from their places, and he held them both against his palms, as 
tightly as he could, even as he waltzed across the be-crumbed 
floor.  He had no other tokens of his friends that had meant so 
much, and he took the cups into his room, stuffing them into his 
one little crate of beloved things.  Things he intended to pack,  
since he would be packing.  Just not now.  

Now it was time to sing in that house.  In the midst of the 
decadent dada of their dirtying, he found himself sweeping across 
the stairs to his Youji, being very mindful of where he stepped 
in lieu of their experimentation with accelerated grime 
collection, and even though, he feet were suddenly sticking to 
the floor, and even though, he had so many a memory of long 
nights beginning in the basement living room quarters, he forgot 
them all, and felt sweet as the morning breeze, newer than the 
dawn, sweeping into this. The remnants of their past turned into 
one great, big, purple Fanta joke!  

They truly were free beneath the shower of amaranth sugar water.  
Youji especially.  After all, he still happened to be quite 
naked.  Omi stepped up beside him and started humming along.  
However, even his simple echo of the tune ended when he spied the 
Be-Boy Gold sprawled out before his lover.

***

The empty soda can went flying through the air in an angled flash 
of purple and silver, and bounced off the far wall with a 
metallic chirrup to the sound of Youji's croon.  He whirled 
around then, and slung his arms around Omi, his soda-sticky 
fingers instantly pouncing upon the boy's ticklish places as he 
roared out the last two lines.  

"My boy!" he bellowed, scooping him up in his arms.  He caught 
sight of his too-tight cutoffs then, and jokingly waggled his 
fine, dark brows at him.  

/My third boy, that is.  You said you know so much about me, but 
I bet you don't know that, do you, Omi?/

"Mmm...I like your choice of clothing.  Pity I've never seen you 
in those before."  Youji swung him into a dip, and placed a 
nibbling kiss on the hollow of his throat before straightening 
up again.  "But I'm ever so glad I have now."

He grinned slyly, and slowly turned around and around, glowing 
with pride.  "So, whaddya think?  Am I a master redecorator or 
what?  A lot of care went into this, Omi!  A lot of care!  
And guess what?" he said, his eyes darting impishly to the side 
table by the entry way.  "I've found another mystery for us to 
solve!"  

***

Omi laughed until he had to pinch his eyes to keep them from 
dripping.  Then came the moment he pranced away, and slid his 
hands down the sides of the cutoffs, which had no pockets and 
pulled so very, very tight around him.

"I'm glad you approve!  I've never worn these outside my room 
because... welll... you know.."

And taking a moment to straighten the seam that ran between his 
legs.  "But now? I'll wear them whenever you want."

And then, stretching his lanky arms behind his back and leaning 
from side to side for a better look at the room, he remarked, "As 
for the room, hmm, I would say I know what you should do for your 
new job. I love what you've done with the newspaper- juxtaposed 
with the puddle like that.  It rather reminds me of a pseudo-
post-modern reinterpretation of Mondays.  But what really pulls 
the room together is the grape Fanta! Anyway, mystery?"

This inquired, he leaned down, dancing around Youji for a better 
look at the Be-boy.  "Oh, so this isn't yours unlike..."

He pointed to the sprawled picture of the sprawled woman with the 
sprawled legs revealing more or less everything that could be 
revealed.  (Omi had an astounding tolerance for such images, 
since they never had and never would do anything for him, not to 
mention his having seen plenty doing the wash.)

"Hmm..."

***

A quizzical quirk of a brow, and Youji smirked, and made a 
frantic grab for the magazine, only to have it jerked out of his 
reach.  

"So, I have an appreciation for beauty in *all* its forms."  He 
shrugged, lazily looking Omi up and down.  "I am an artiste, 
after all."  This last said with a sweep of a hand, indicating 
the newly redone room.  He bowed with a flourish.    

With that, he turned and took the Be-Boy Gold magazine in hand, 
and began to thumb through it, flicking Omi a look every so 
often.  

"So...You don't know who this belongs to, hmmm?"

***

Omi shook his head, most sincerely, "I haven't the faintest, 
Youji-kun."  But faintest or not, he slunk up beside his lover 
and peered over his arm only to behold a particularly juicy 
panel.  /Ow, that looks painful... I'm double jointed and I 
wouldn't even try that! These hentai little mangaka!/

"Maybe they wrote something on it... probably not their name, but 
something nonetheless.  Writing a name on one's smut isn't too 
bright of course."

This suggested, he ducked down and admired the cover, hoping for 
some sort of discerning mark.  "Well, it's a sci-fi themed issue. 
I can't exactly see Aya or Ken going for that!"

Then a long pause, during which he began to look as if he'd been 
hit over the head with a rubber chicken.  "I can't even see 
either of them as gay! And even if they are... does this mean... 
that they ran off with each other!?"

He suddenly felt very, very, very unobservant.

***

At that, Youji flipped the magazine shut and lightly smacked Omi 
on the head with it.  

"And I'm sure neither of them saw me going for a person of my 
sex, but I did."

/And I have.../

He tousled his hair wildly with his free hand, and smiled down 
into his lover's eyes.  "And just where have you been these last 
few months, hm?  Why, Aya's done nothing but sneak lovestruck 
looks at Ken when he thought no one was paying attention to him.  
In the shop, in the kitchen..."  He shot a smirking look in the 
direction of the redhead's room.  "Hell, I wouldn't be surprised 
if..."

A pause, while Youji considered that offhand notion.  

"Nah... Not our Aya..."

He twisted a look at Omi then.  "Let's go get dressed, and 
start--or finish in your case?--packing, what do you say?  Our 
ever gorgeous Manx will be here soon, and I'd rather not greet 
her like this.  She'd only laugh, anyway."

The Be-Boy Gold got another wondering look, before it was tucked 
once more under Youji's arm.  "I think I'll take this with me.  
Never know," he added, with a lazy, seductive glint of 
dark-fringed green in Omi's direction.  

"It might just come in handy later on."

***

Omi just stared and rued many a psych class not taken.  Not to 
mention that he simply could not see Aya and Ken ever admitting 
anything for each other; Aya behaved as if feelings were an 
exotic tropical disorder suffered by his associates, and Ken was 
all glee or anger.

But just then, as he was creeping up the hall to his room, he 
stopped, and went into Ken's bedroom, where the socks still 
dotted the floor, and the window stood open over the glorious 
afternoon Tokyo skyline of diamonds and silver. With or without 
the beauty of it, jealousy seized him.

He thought, /If you two are allowed to run off and be each 
other's forever and ever without Kritiker on you backs... 
what about Youji and I?/

He could just see them as chibis off frolicking in an idyllic 
field of daisies somewhere, pausing occasionally to kiss or to 
fondle one another's bottoms.  But that daydream degraded not 
into their happily screwing each other, but a dust cloud 
raised by a cat fight over nothing save themselves.  

Omi sighed.  He knew they'd never be like that, Aya and Ken.  
Maybe they could love each other.  But not like that; he pitied 
them, he wished them luck.

And then all of a sudden he was honored to be left behind and 
take their places and their Be-boy Golds.  

In competitive silence he went back to his own room, to his own 
closet, and dressed as delinquently as he could.  His mismatched 
earrings made him grin at himself before he finally resolved to 
fish his treasure box out from under his bed.  The disks on the 
floor beside it could be shoveled into his duffel.  He could 
leave his clothes out until they had somewhere to go.

"Well," he said to no one at all.  "I'm packed."

***

Ken didn't know which was more stunning- the imminent size of the 
sore spot that he knew he would find covering his stomach in the 
morning, or sound of Ran's laughter.  He'd expected neither one, 
and in the end, the sheer joy of seeing his beloved gleaming on 
the bench with giggles- that drowned out the pain.  He was flying 
for the rest of the game on those few, precious sounds.  

After having congratulated Kagome on her terrific foot... 
("You'll go far in the world of soccer with that!", "Actually, I 
like tennis!", "You are *SO* wasted on that game!")... he 
expected things to quiet down.  Well, so much for that.  It 
turned into more of free-for-all.  There came no need for him to 
deliberately destruct himself- knowing Ran was there seemed more 
than enough, glancing at him between passes.

Needless to say, his white garb stayed white for only about four 
minutes.  Their yellow and blue uniforms fared no better.  The 
ground happened to be a little damp yet from the previous rain-  
just wet enough to stick.  He got grass in his hair bumping the 
ball with his head.  

Through this, he considered on and off was Savil- since she 
usually appeared behind him, he didn't exactly get to watch her. 
Was she the sort who didn't mind what became of her clothes, or 
had her dainty mannerisms demanded she stay clean, something 
quite undesirable in a goalie?

He got his answer upon watching her all but deliberately fling 
herself into the dirt, trying to keep the ball from her spaces.  
It was quite legal what she did- performing a very peculiar 
maneuver which involved flipping in mid air and landing on her 
back, well-muddied and giggling.  She'd caught the ball between 
her feet and flung it out before even climbing upright.  He would 
have caught it in Kagome's bruise if he'd not been paying 
attention.  

It was as close as he came to another wound.  Since he was taller 
than them, there were plenty of incidences of spritely things 
diving between his legs after their quarry, and their running 
into each other trying to avoid him, since he was the guest.  He 
felt rather bad about that, and one other thing... "Hey, you're 
making me into a ball hog here! You think I don't want to see how 
you pass to each other?"

So then they ran loop-de-loops around him, passing and giggling.  
He finally gave up and nailed the ball into the yellow teams net.  

***   

"Way to go, Ken-kun," murmured Ran.  The yellow team broke long 
enough clutch at Ken as they passed him, their faces shining with 
delight as they jostled for position for the goalie's throw.  
Blue gained possession, and the throng tore off down the other 
field, battling for the ball.  

And not always fairly, as the screech of the coach's whistle 
proved.  

***

He lost himself in the second half of the game.  It was him, and 
his someone to perform for. Not a million someones- faceless fans 
who would hiss if he flubbed up.  Not press agents, not 
golddiggers.

Had he ever been really happy in the J-league?

Yeah, but a long time ago and...

"... It was not this world!" Savil sing-songed.  

She was right. Antiterra began to wane, and so did the afternoon.  
So they kicked at it, snapped at it, threw themselves into it and 
the mud.  It just happening to have assumed the form of a soccer 
ball.

And then the sneaking sensation he was growing tired at last.  
But how? Why? He stood surrounded by flickers of energy immune to 
the laws of physics! Electric sugar-pop speed children who...

Completely wore him out.

Still tied, Savil ended the life of the yellow team's goal with 
the heal of her foot.

And as if preordained, the others drew back, and she lobbed the 
thing at Ken.

Who, as if be request, bumped it into the yellow goal with his 
forehead.

OK, so maybe it was a little hokey, but it was fun.

***

Once more, Ken was swarmed en masse by hopping, groping, giggling  
little girls, who, surging on a high, were blithely ignoring 
their coach's shiny, screaming whistle. And who could blame them? 
they'd just won, and Ken had been absolutely brilliant.
 
Akiko cheered and clapped, and finally jumped up to sprint away  
across the field, black hair swishing from side to side behind 
her.  Ran got to his feet as well, and made his way across the 
field at a more dignified pace, no less happier than she was.  
He walked up to the little group, only halting at a respectful  
distance when the teacher finally managed to call her charges to  
order.  As she went through her observations, Ran turned his 
attention to Ken.  
 
He was grinning from ear to ear, his face glowing with  
sweat, cheeks flushed. His uniform clung to him in the most  
interesting ways; he was grass stained and mud stained, and Ran 
found him utterly appealing.  
 
As the coach led her team away, amidst a flurry of farewells and 
thanks for Ken, Ran walked over to him, sneaking looks back at 
the straggling group. When the last little girl had left the 
field, he looked back over at him. Ken smelled like summer, 
and Ran couldn't resist him any longer.  
 
Dropping his uniform to the ground, Ran leaned forward and 
kissed him.  
 
*** 

/Someday,/ Ken told himself halfway through that kiss, /I may get 
used to you doing this./ 
 
He gave up for the time being and smiled through his smothered 
lips, nibbling at Ran's, combing their fingers together. They 
parted, he sighed and stole another moment of the soft, clicking 
closeness. 
 
"Ah-ah, no more than that for now, even if Savil has finally 
gone! Not until I've gotten a shower and changed. After all, I 
don't want you to stink too!" 
 
/Now if I can just keep my hand out of his hair for one 
moment.../ 
 
Too late. 
 
Though it was too late for that he realized, almost absently.
 
For yet another time that day, he returned to the present, a 
little dazed, but not so weary. 
 
"This'll be the fastest shower in the history of mankind! " A 
quick peck on Ran's forehead, and he ran off shouting, "The 
sooner we leave, the sooner we get there!" 
 
He also whipped off his shirt as he ran, waving it like a large, 
sodden hankie. 
 
Which left Ran standing alone on the field, wreathed by the first 
notes of sunset- pinkish gold threads slithering into the 
otherwise cerulean sky and leaving long shadows behind. 
 
"I still think I have him beat." Said Savil, who had appeared 
behind Ran on the field.  Not only had she managed to sneak up on 
a member of Weiss, but she seemed to have found time to change 
her clothes as well.  She wore what appeared at first to be her 
uniform.  Though more or less the same, it had been trimmed with 
gold brocade and her hair was wound rather with ribbons of deep 
blue. One of her socks was lopsided. 
 
*** 

Ran bent down and scooped up his discarded uniform shirt and 
shorts, brushing off the stray bits of grass and dirt that had 
collected on them, then tucked them under his arm.

"Do you, Savil-ch...sama?" he asked; using "-chan" seemed to be 
improper somehow.  "How so?"   

***

"Welllllll..." Savil began, tittering a little at Ran's regard.  
She had only been a Herald for a few days after all, and so found 
herself still easily charmed by the formalities of the post.  
"Maybe not at soccer, but I know I can shower faster than him.  I 
got out here before he even started!"

And then, anticipating the next response.  "I didn't PEEK." 
Another giggle.  "I love Japanese boys- they're much more 
delicious than American ones.  Acting all shy and everything.  
You won't have to do that where we're going, if you don't want 
to.  But I was never shy, so I'm not sure if you can want to do 
that or not."

She finished her what she had to say by taking a graceful twirl 
on the toes of one of her shoes- one that seemed to last forever 
like a slow-time raindrop breaking on a movie screen.  Maybe it 
was just the light of the evening as it lingered.  "And you can 
keep those if you want.  We can go wait by the car too, so Ken 
won't have to come back here for you."

A few steps up to Ran and she begged once more with the faux-
bashful tilting of her shoulders, more or less returning his bow.  
"And I will watch you for the rest of your life! Even if I'm 
little now."  

***
"O-kay," drawled Ran, though the slight lowering of his brows 
hinted that it was not so.  If she was negatively affected by 
his reluctance, Savil concealed it well.  The little girl only 
giggled at him behind her hand, and Ran felt something like 
deja vu.

With a small shake of his head, he headed off towards the exit.  
After a few steps, he came to a halt, and scooped up the 
forgotten soccer ball.  

"If you don't mind, Savil-sama, I would like to take this 
ball with me as well."   

***

To this Savil applauded. "Of course you can have it! It's special 
to you, so it should be with you.  But don't mind me, or anyone 
else who starts getting philosophical as the sun goes down."

A temptation seized her to snatch at one of those milky-smooth 
hands of his, but hesitated for now.  It was hard to touch 
someone so readily when they called you -sama.

Oh but Ran was so happy! A somewhat battered ball and he smiled 
so much inside.  She couldn't help but skip the rest of the way 
to the car.  Well, calling the waiting automobile a "car" was 
somewhat of a misnomer.  

"I'm sorry, all the limos were booked for tonight."

As if anyone was going to complain about a jet black Rolls Royce! 
Ran didn't. 

The driver, a tallish woman in her early thirties, quickly tossed 
her cigarette to the ground, and stomped it out with the heel of 
her black leather boot before otherwise making sure no ash had 
landed on her emerald uniform.  

"Gwen!" Savil complained as she confiscated Ran's things and went 
about relocating them to the trunk.

"Sorry..." the woman huffed, and shortly started as one of the 
windows started to roll down, seemingly if its own accord.

Ken peered out and waved to his Ran.  "Ready to go?"

The little girl nodded- not in answer, but in joining suggestion.  
Ken leaned back and let her open the door, which she did with a 
little bow.

***

The Rolls was sleek and sexy and chrome trimmed and black as ink 
on the outside, but on the inside the whole of it was glossy 
white like newly fallen snow.  He almost didn't want to get in 
for fear of scuffing the smooth leather seat.  

He paused to brush the mud and grass off the soccer ball as best 
he could with his hands, then dropped it onto the milk-colored 
mat with an apologetic look towards Savil as he climbed in.  

A pane of opaquely tinted glass hung at half mast between the 
front and back seats.  On the other side of it, lay Gwen and 
her magnificent, green cap covered, French-twisted, russet hair.  
A sliver of pale skin shone just above her high collar; Ran had 
only just noticed it when the glass began to rise, shutting out 
the sight of her from their view.  

Ran let out a sigh, happy that they were leaving at last.  He 
gathered up the soccer ball and handed it off to Ken.  

"I brought this for you."

***

"You did? Aww." He bounced the ball into his hand, giving the 
damp leather a friendly squish. "Now we have somethin' we can 
play with on Terra if you want."  With that, he leaned forward 
for a little kiss on the cheek.  

Not to mention that the mirrored partition shortly rolled back 
down, revealing Savil, who was not exactly in the car... more of 
leaning in and letting all the freon-cooled air depart.  

"I hate to be a pain but I just wanted to warn Aya that I kinda 
have to come along."

Ken nodded.  "It's another custom.  You can't officially leave 
Terra or go there without a Herald or a..."

"Mage.  That and I don't have another way home." Shrugging, she 
got in, slammed the door, seemingly oblivious to how much any 
dents she left would cost to repair, and waved.  "Besides, 
someone has to read the ordinances off to you when we get there!" 

Ken swallowed hard and let his hand steal behind his neck. "Have 
they changed at all?"

"Not really." 

Some semblance of a hint having passed between them at last, the 
partition made its way back up to the ceiling and closed with a 
glassy "shhhhk".

As for Ken, he grumbled.  "Sorry I forgotta mention that..." his 
sentence trailed off as he reached for the intercom to the front 
seats.  "Umm... how long 'til we get there?"

"Well," the little girl, sounding quite at home with her job of 
reporting to them.  "It's 6:49 ATT now, so maybe an hour after 
dinner.?"

"Two hours!" he sighed awfully, and leaned back in his seat, 
seeming at first to be frustrated, but then he turned back to 
Ran.  "You're welcome to my shoulder or my lap if you get tired."  

The rolls took its first gliding slip forwards.

***

Actually, Ran was tired, just a little, and the idea of having 
his head in Ken's lap, with the latter's fingers combing his hair 
sounded wonderful.  Especially since no one was around to see--no 
one who would tease them later at least.  

So, with a grateful roll of his shoulders, Ran stretched out on 
the long bench seat, and rested his head in Ken's lap, eyes 
closed, hands draped upon his stomach.  

***

/I never thought he'd actually do it./

He looked down and he knew he had been wrong one more time in his 
life.  His lover's crimson bangs he smoothed from his face.  His 
hands were rough and brown against Ran's pallor, bloodless 
against his flushed cheeks, pale shadows as they fell like 
feathers over his black-clad shoulder.

And he admitted it.  At least, part of it.  His words came far 
too bright for his liking, as if something made them unholy... 
the joy.  How wrong.  "I always wanted someone who'd let me do 
this.  You feel pretty tense though."

/Are my fingers still that knowing or am I feeling you this way 
because I am?/

"You don't have to be.  I promised, didn't I?"

*** 

"Yeah, you promised, and yeah, I'm tense," said Ran.  "Some kid 
told me she's going to watch me for the rest of my life.  I'm 
going to a place I never knew existed before with someone I 
love, and it scares me..." 

"Because...I guess I'm afraid I'm going to lose you, too."  

***

"Ran," Ken sighed. "I can't... I won't sit here, and tell you 
that's not gonna happen, 'cause I don't know."

He heaved a sigh, and forced a smile upon his lips.  His gaze 
shone in the passing glimmer of the first streetlights that began 
to catch alight.  Rather like a blind man, Ken reached down and 
ran his finger tips over his lover's lashes. 

"But we don't haffta fight anymore.  That *IS* true." He sighed, 
hard.  His chest hurt where the soccer ball had slammed into him 
earlier.  "Ran, can't we be happy? Just for now. Nobody's gonna 
make us back into what we were and nobody's even gonna care we're 
gone.  That's the end of it."

One of his hands he found himself pulling away and stuffing a 
finger of it between his lips to keep them from trembling.  "Now, 
I hope you understand that once we getta moment alone, the first 
thing I'm gonna do is get onea those baby brushes and brush your 
hair for as long as you let me."

***

Ran's eyes flew open at that, but not because of the oddness of 
his proposal.  He had heard the faint tremor in his voice, felt 
the way he shuddered beneath him.  It wasn't like Ken to react 
in such a manner.  

He reached up and loosely caught a hold of his collar, as if he 
thought he might try to flee somehow.  "What's wrong?"  

***

"Ran... don't..." 

And then he realized what he was saying, crushed somewhere 
against a soft, dark warmth.  He felt nothing but Ran's pulse 
against him.  His own heart seemed to have stopped.  His muscles 
no longer offered him reply. 

And the streetlights had vanished before his eyes. 

Ken lay shuddering in Ran's arms.  "Don't be mad at me. I can't 
help it... I can't... I-I-I... I'll be alright though." 

He felt like choking himself for making Ran worry about him.  

[[[NOTE:  I changed the following line in the previous post.]]]

/"So...Tell me what's troubling you, anata."/

An answer burned his lips.  He whispered... "I'll be alright if 
you just hold me for awhile."  

***

Ran's eyes narrowed; he hated it when people tried to evade 
answering his questions.  Even though they might have had good 
reasons for doing so.  But Ran saw that he wasn't going to be 
able to get a straight answer out of him, not in the condition 
he was in.  

"All right," he replied grudgingly, and Ran rose from his 
comfortable lounging position to sit sideways facing Ken on 
the seat.  He wrapped an arm around him, pulling him as close 
as he could as he reached down to punch the comm button.  

"Savil-sama.  Ken is ill."  
 

***

"Mnn?" Answered a vague squeak on the other side of the 
partition. "Oh.  Please don't worry, we'll be there soon enough 
and there are wonderful doctors on Terra.  As if I'd let my two 
first charges go back to some antiseptic nightmare on Antiterra.  
BAH!" Then uttered with her finger still clamped over the button: 
"Step on it." Click.  And the line went off.

The Rolls, had it been a car of less auspicious make, would have 
lurched forward.  As things stood, the increase in speed barely 
even registered within.   Nothing had registered in Ken for many 
minutes.

"Ran I..." he finally whispered.  His tongue felt thick and soar.  
"I really am OK.  This isn't your fault. I just... I havea..."

He swallowed.  Spoke with words fantastically even.  Almost 
ghoulishly.  

"I have a little bit of a problem being touched, but not the 
other way around.  It's nothin' you did.  It's from a long time 
ago. As if I could get rid of it by wishin'.  What a jerk I am."

***

"You don't seem too worried." Gwen grumbled, her foot clamped 
down on the accelerator.  

Savil sighed, and leaned back in her seat.  Not an annoyed sigh 
and certainly not a fretful one.  Just a sigh.  She stretched her 
legs.  Seemed to be gleaming in the last of the streetlights as 
they started to dissolve.  With speed or magics it could not be 
told. "They're my responsibility, Gwendolyn.  I know them.  It's 
my job.  In fact, Ken isn't sick at all.  He's having a nervous 
fit.  Even if we were allowed to stop, don't you think he'd get 
even worse if we took him to a hospital?"

"I guess I have no idea." The chauffeur replied.  

"Well, Ken would.  I think most Terrans would.  I mean, the way 
they get treated in those places."

Silence then, until Savil's finger snap wriggled its way though 
the semi-darkness. "Shimatta ne! Almost forgot."

Two little hands started groping for the glove box, which sprung 
open a few seconds later, producing a long, flat wafer of a 
laptop.

"Now what are you doing?"

"Logging onto AIM.  But just for a minute."

The last person who'd used the computer had been kind enough to 
leave the thing suspended, so no start up time was wasted.  The 
program booted in its usual glitchy thirty seconds and Savil 
signed on as Miffy the Herald, her ID sporting an icon of the 
albeit minimalist rabbit clad in yellow and blue.

She whistled as she punched in the other user's ID by hand, and 
sent to them.

[Hey Su-dono! ^_^V I guess you know who this is.]

The answer came some lagging moment later. [I certainly do.  How 
are you to-night, little lady?]

[Very well, thank you.  Et vous?]

[Tired -_-]

[Ah, too bad.  Well, I can't stay too long and all.]

[Of course not ^_~]

[I just wanted to let you know I've got two of your kitties.]

[o.o!]

[^_^V]

[Umm... wow.  I know one of them is the Siberian]

[Of(f) course!]

[Lol Who's the other one?]

[The Abyssinian! My, he's a cute, cute little kitty.  Don't 
worry.  I'll take good care of them.]

[I don't know why, but I trust you.  Really]

[I'm honored... but you still owe me a box of chocolate.]

[Godiva or Ghirardelli?] 

[Hmmm... Ghirardelli, please.]

[I'll send it over tout de suite]

[Wai! Thanks! And have a nice night.]

[They're all nice... oh, and Savil?]

[Ne ne?]

[Thanks for letting me know]

***

Ken's attempt at soothing Ran had the opposite effect.  Ran made 
the attempt to withdraw from him, but Ken only clutched at his 
retreating arms, pulling him forward until he relented.  

"If that's the case, then why do you want me to hold you?" He 
frowned.    Or...is it me?  I've done something wrong."  

***

By now he had stopped shivering.  Traces of pain still laved his 
form, but he wouldn't shake any more for their chill.  He 
wouldn't. 

"Ran, it's not that! It's not whatcha think.  It's got nothin' 
t'do with you! Don't be sorry."

He found if he tensed himself enough, he could move a bit without 
trembling, and so snuggled up as close to Ran as he could, taking 
one hand from his shoulder and twining his fingers around it.

"Ran, I was so happy you sat down with me last night. I know. I 
am too.  I'm not everything I told you I was.  And it's too much.  
Just forget it.  's bad enough one of us gets like this."

Shrugging, he laughed darkly for his lover and shook his head.

***

Gently, Ran began to stroke Ken's hair, his mind racing as he 
watched the roadside whiz past the window.  

"I'll forget it for now.  But one day soon, I'm going to ask 
you what you mean by 'I'm not everything I told you I was'.  I 
want you to answer me truthfully, too.  I'll know if you don't.  
I can read you better than you think, Ken."  

With that, he held him just a little bit tighter.  

"You okay with that?"  


***

Ken nodded, and leaned back in Ran's arms, his eyes tilting open 
just the littlest bit. The inside of the rolls seemed blurry and 
bright like a washed out photograph to him, all save Ran, who 
came in clear and smooth above him.  

"B-b-because it's what I want."

An interminable moment passed with nothing but Ran's pulse to 
hold him in the sphere of any world.  Doki... doki... dukun...

"Ran, the night... the first we were supposed to be hunting down 
Kaze and the Creepers... I-I-know you were tailing me... now..." 
He paused a moment, swallowed hard.  "... but didja follow me 
back to his house? Didja listen? Didja even *hear* me..."

And then in one bursting second he stopped shivering and the 
world came in bursting clear.  Crystal.  Sane.  Gone.

"...when I screamed his name in the middle of the night?"

***

Closing his eyes as if he wished to burn away the image Ken's 
words had brought forth, Ran nodded.  

"Yeah, I heard it.  I heard everything that happened, and for 
once, I didn't know what to do.  I just...wanted to kill him.  
I wanted him dead."  


***

"No.  Oh no.  No, Ran..."

Ken closed his eyes and sighed heavily.  "'salright if you're 
angry.  I am too.  But this's my fault. There was nothin' you 
coulda done."  This whispered, he reached down and brushed his 
hand to Ran's.  

A long silence fell then and it seemed that the speed of the 
Rolls had finally begun to drop, though surely enough time hadn't 
passed for them to vanish from Antiterra.  He tried to make 
himself see.  Were their sky-scrapers or fireflies? Stars or 
winking jets? The moon he couldn't find anywhere above the lines 
that were hills or villages watching the heavens.

Ah, neither moon could be seen.  If they were on Terra.

Ran felt like he was made of ice.

"Kaze was my lover.  He for a long time.  I don't really remember 
how long right now.  But I was his, and no one else's."

And then he did dearly wish that the two little Cynthia twins 
would appear, even though the thought made him shudder again.  
The two little orbs, one danced around the other, over and over.  
Three times a night- casting off her silver robe and putting it 
on again for laughs.

"He made sure I knew that too."

Ken could still see himself draped over the heather, save for one 
hand, which had wound its way down Kaze's trousers, just like a 
good boy's.  Always.  Thinking the two of them were like the 
moons.  Just drunk and happy and revolving around each other.  
Over and over.  

Even though for a second, Kaze winked out and turned into Ran.  
Just for a second.  If he could have caught that fancy and 
stuffed it in his pocket...

"He kept me.  And I was happy.  That's why."

***     

Ran pulled back a little to stare down into Ken's dreaming eyes.  
Nothing in his expression revealed the tumult of his emotions.  
He'd suspected they'd been lovers, but...kept?  

"He tried to kill you, hurt you that night.  He hurt you all the 
time, didn't he?  And you were happy?"  

Ken said nothing to him, only turned his face to Ran's shoulder 
as if to hide.  But Ran chose to let him go, leaving him 
resting against him on his own.  

"I don't understand that at all."  

***

He couldn't even murmur in answer to that- just collapsed inside, 
shut his mind up, and let himself revel in these last few minutes 
of the day that had begun back on Antiterra, and the last few 
heartbeats of Ran, that he had always longed so to hear.  You did 
this Ken, you know it.  You're too afraid.

In his fancies, fear meant nothing and he cried out-

/ I'm fine, Ran.  I love you, Ran./

/But I used to.../

The words went out.  The engine's barely noticeable thrum seemed 
to be dying down, and his real fears shattered and caught 
themselves on the new ones.  Didn't you think I was happy when 
you sat with me yesterday on the bike? Didn't you think I would 
have kissed you forever in the library...

/I don't even know what I used to be anymore./

"We're here!" 

/But I'm home./

His hand crept over and the tips of his fingers at least brushed 
Ran's lips.  "Smile.  It's over."

So they were actually sitting apart, his hand already having left 
his lover's lips, when Savil opened their door with less than the 
usual flourish.  In fact, she looked downright forlorn and was 
twiddling something in a hidden pocket.  

"Gomen-nasai, minna-san.  I know long car rides aren't any 
fun..."

"It's just fine." Ken nodded, and reaching down after the soccer 
ball, managed to retrieve some pale echo of his usual grin.  
After all, it had been a present... from someone he adored.  

The little girl then pulled two little boxes from the folds of 
her skirt.  "I know this doesn't really make up for it or 
anything... you sure you're alright now?"

"Sure-sure!" 

She pressed the box into his hand then- it was ordinary clear 
plastic, but inside, on a bed of spun sugar rested a bouquet of 
crystallized violets and rose petals. Or at least, what appeared 
to be that.  

The other box she passed to his beloved.

"I'm sorry I was snippy, Aya.  But we're not supposed to go back 
once we've gotten on the main road, and stupidly enough, I wasn't 
allowed to tell you that until now.  Besides, we're treated 
really badly if we go into Antiterran hospitals.  In fact, if you 
ever go back, and you need a doctor, you're probably better off 
coming here."

Despite that "here" presently constituted a more or less mundane 
parking garage.  

"So we're still friends?"

***

Ran only shrugged, refusing to meet the gazes of either of his 
companions.  In the dismal, he briefly examined the 
flower-sprinkled confection Savil had passed him, then promptly 
pocketed it.  

"Now what do we do?"  

***

"Follow me and listen to the obligatory rant." Whether that 
particular reply stood as a deadpan joke or just dead serious 
could not be easily ascertained.  What could be was that Savil 
slid up beside Ran, seized his hand, and started leading him 
along.

She had Ken trapped in her other hand, and so was obliged to 
glance back and forth between then.  Ken wasn't watching where he 
was going and tripped a few times as he thumbed through his rose 
petals.  He didn't dare look up, or speak up, or even try to 
think.

And Savil was really hurting his hand.

Savil herself wondered if Ran himself noticed, but nonetheless 
spoke what she had been born to speak.  And not flatly nor 
flowery.  She sounded like she was reading from a story book.

"Well, this is Terra, and it's a big secret of course.  You're 
absolutely not allowed to talk about Terra while you're on 
Antiterra- that's the most serious thing you can do wrong if 
you've ever been here, but of course, you can't actually do it 
while you're here.  You're also not allowed to make movies, tape 
your conversations, or digitize anything Terran and oh, no flash 
photography.  I guess you're used to that sort of thing though."

"The rules are pretty simple- don't kill, don't maim, don't rape, 
don't steal, don't get in fights.  All the usual stuff, although 
I'd like to see someone get away with most of that considering 
weapons aren't permitted.  But you can smoke weed if you want, 
get drunk, and since this is the Japanese annex, do all the 
hiropon you want. 

"While you're here, listen to your herald.  And don't hesitate to 
come to me if you have any problems.  Taking you between is only 
ten percent of my job.  

"Since you're new here, Aya, you're going to have to stay for at 
least a month before we let you go back.  That's so you won't be 
tempted to hurt us, not that you would, but it's what we do.  No 
one is allowed any contact with Antiterra, unless it's by 
messenger.  See, it's not so bad."

The elevator had ground to a stop by now.  Ken's rose petal had 
gone to slush in his mouth.  They stood now in a short, dark 
hallway.

"Any questions before we go?"

***  

Pulling free of Savil's hand, Ran emerged from the elevator.  
"No.  You've satisfied me for now."  

***

Savil took her leave of her two charges before they came to the 
door- a great, heavy black thing that looked as if it was made of 
stone and bore two rings instead of knobs.  She stood before it, 
hands behind her back and knees knocked, smiling awfully.  She 
seemed to be hiding a birthday present.  

"Sorry, but this is my one chance to say this, since they only do 
it in Japan."  A giggle, and then she shouted to the darkness.  
"Gei-boi-san-tachi to enjoi shite kudasai!"

And she, despite her small stature, flung the doors open.  

There was nothing to be seen of Terra at first for the world 
behind came as blinding after the sated dimness of the hallway.  
But the smell... that was enough for Ken as he held his eyes 
closed; an overpowering, almost physically filling sensation of 
violets.  It claimed and calmed his senses, but not his heart, 
for besides the flood of light, memories; many a first time, now 
all long past.

His very first sight of this place seemed to mingle with the 
present.  Nothing had changed, nothing ever would, for though 
those the spaces beyond were called properly indoors, they seemed 
as timeless and as lasting as the hills.  He saw people though 
that couldn't have been there, and the season fluxed and 
wandered, though there was no season in The Planet.

The Planet, this place on Terra was immense with a breeze that 
chased itself through the gleaming catacombs.  No cathedral on 
Antiterra could rival this, no heart of the earth.  The ceiling 
hovered high as the clouds and its golden ribs seemed mere 
threads across the vault of the night sky that shone through: 
there two moons, hand in hand, hovering among the cherry-mint 
aurora traces that hovered over the arcade.  

If in truth it could be called that for no end could be guessed 
for the procession of ivory marble walls that raced before them 
and into the distance.  Now and again they stood graced with 
signs: Hyacinth Villa this way, hotel the other and if you're 
looking for your herald...

All this and not one light could be made out, as if the endless 
aisle itself illumed or took on the glow of the people within.  
For its benches stood not empty, its fountains not unwished in, 
its small, winding groves not unoccupied by lovers speaking 
softly.

And therein the most surprising thing of all.  Not one woman 
walked here who was not clad in the yellow and blue of herald 
Savil, and of those? They all dashed about like vivid sparrows.  
The men paid to them only the faintest hellos and kept the kisses 
for each other.

As if nothing better stood within the confines of the world.

This world at least.

"Welcome to Terra," said Savil.

(OOC: Gei-boi-san-tachi to enjoi shite kudasai = Please enjoy 
yourself with the Mr. Gay Boys; a message frequently appearing 
outside Tokyo gay clubs.)

***

The smell of violets had a completely different effect upon Ran.  
No bittersweet memories assailed him, no hope pervaded his 
thoughts, no sudden giddying joy overwhelmed him.  He simply 
became ill.  

His pulse sped up so quickly, he felt as if he might faint.  
What Ran saw when he dared to open his swimming eyes was hazy 
and dull, as if he were viewing the scene through a piece of 
heavy, dark grey gauze.  It all tilted crazily at intervals as 
well, but Ran wasn't sure if it was the picture or himself that 
was moving. 

The moons seemed to him to be the two great pearly eyes of some  
beast.  The heralds and the lovers were only shades in the dusk.
But he kept quiet about his distress, merely clutched his bundle 
to his chest and took step after quavering step forward until he 
realized he'd crossed the threshold.  

A breeze swept over him as he entered Terra, enveloping him in 
its embrace.  Hoping to clear his head, Ran drew a deep lung 
full of it and was immediately seized with a fit of coughing; 
it burned his lungs like ice.  

Ran staggered over to what looked to be an ash-colored 
pillar, and leaned against its chill marble bulk.  

"Where..." he began weakly, "will we be staying?"

***

"H-hey! You OK?" Ken asked.  His joys and sorrows all forgotten, 
he brushed Savil to one side and crept over closer to his Ran, 
who stood like a caryatid against the arch of a buttress- a 
splash of red and black against the cream and gold. 

A wheezing one.  He reached for his shoulder, intending to cradle 
it with his palm.  Would that make him understand? That it wasn't 
his fault? That their exile from one another was neither total 
nor permanent?

But that thought was silenced by Savil. "Oh for crying out loud!" 
she groaned.  He heard her hand hit her forehead.

As heralds had little reason to say such things, Ken ended up 
turning away in alarm, his fingers only grazing his beloved's 
shoulder.

A little way down the hall had appeared a flock of heralds- all 
older than Savil.  Stately women of their thirties mostly, 
bearing standards some.  And one light, dark child.  About 
fourteen.  At least one carried the crest of Valdemar.

"Fiona!" Savil protested. 

"Oh calm down," the other young herald replied, waving her hand 
dismissively.  "I'm not here after you."

Savil seemed delighted at this at first, but then just as the 
other was opening her mouth, "You want Ken, don't you?" 

Ken gulped.

"There's a mage from Valdemar here.  Just flew in, wants to see 
him at once.  Somethin' about settling the estate before it 
moulders.  Yadda yadda. Blah Blah..." and then to the horribly 
flustered Ken.  "Come with me."

"Hey wait a second!" Savil demanded.  "He just got here! He's 
tired! He doesn't feel well and neither does his BF!"

"Pffft! You know how mages are."  With that line, Fiona took a 
look around all three of the recently arrived guests, as if her 
words would say even what they might not have understood at once.  
"And b'sides, the mage they sent is..."

"MON DIEU!" Savil buried her face in her palms.  "Ysanne?"

"Exactly." But she merely shrugged and seized Ken by the arm.  
"So the sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can say you 
survived a meeting with..."

"... the bitch."

"SAVIL!" Ken wailed.  It was simply the handiest thing for him to 
cry out.

"But it's true!" 

"I know..." he heaved a sigh and reclaimed his arm.  "I met her 
once.  I'll be..." Rather than finish his thoughthe cast a 
longing glance at Ran.  "Don't worry.  's nothing serious."

"Exactly!" Fiona encouraged, stamping her foot.  "Now can we 
*please* get on with ...!"

Savil made a point of cutting her off, "You mean they've decided 
to give him the ENTIRE VILLA!?"

Ken went stiff with shock.  Savil giggled with delight.  Ran 
looked like they were all speaking Flemmish.  Not that Savil 
couldn't do that... 

"More or less." Fiona sighed.  And then to Ran, "I'll bring him 
back in one piece!"

With that, she hauled Ken away through and aisle of staring men 
and clapping girls. 

"I love you, Ran!"

The last thing Ken saw before they vanished from his eyes, was 
his herald, stepping up beside his lover, her head hung as she 
reached for his hand.

*****