For those who haven't seen it, Earthian is a story of two angel investigators - one positive, one negative - who are sent from Eden to Earth. They travel around the world making reports on all the positive and negative things they find. This story is FULL of spoilers for it, so beware. Also, for those who HAVE seen it... my Chihaya is based on my initial assumptions based on the anime itself. Having read the manga now, I know that most of my assumptions were extremely WRONG, so... yeah. *sweatdrops* Think of it as an AU Chihaya, I guess. This is set several years after the end of the anime.

WARNINGS: SPOILERS for Earthian!

Rose for an Angel
by: Miko no da and Yuuki Miyaka

Abyssinian ghosted through the corridors of the research lab, as silent-footed as the cat he was codenamed for. The razor-sharp edge of his katana caught the little light in the halls, refracting it into a rainbow of colour, making it look like the blade was sharp enough to cut light itself. Elsewhere in the nearly-deserted building his teammates were doing likewise - the target, a former associate of Takatori Masafumi, had NOT been in the office as predicted. They knew he was somewhere in the building, but they had to find him before he could escape. Bombay had indicated they should split up, keeping in contact via their transmitters.

The hall he was in was clearly some sort of detention area. Tiny cells lined either side of the hall, their doors sturdy metal, with only a tiny reinforced window near the top. On each door was a label and a chart, presumably for the research the madman had been conducting. All the windows were dark, no sign of life in the cells - save for one door at the end of the hallway he was heading towards, which had a weak light shining from the window.

He approached it slowly, eyes and body alert for anything out of the ordinary, though it was all out of the ordinary in this place. Amazingly, he kept his cool, knowing that later, he'd likely be ill from the sights but that currently, force of will was sustaining him. Arriving at the window, he peered inside.

The dim overhead light shone down to reveal a slender figure curled up on the narrow cot that was bolted to the wall inside. Given the position of the body, it was impossible to tell anything about the cell's occupant other than the fact that the person had dark hair. Aya wasn't even entirely certain the prisoner was alive until the slim form shifted slightly, one pale eye peering out at him from under ragged bangs.

Sucking in a breath, Aya scowled. "Bombay," he said into the communicator. "We've got a live subject in here... human."

There was a pause, and Aya faintly heard his youngest teammate swear under his breath. "Can you get him out, Abyssinian?"

"How quiet do you want me to be?" Aya asked, eyeing the window. It'd be a hell of a lot easier to just break the thing than try to pick the cell's door.

Just then there was a shout - Ken's voice, ringing in his ear. "Bombay!" the excitable young man exclaimed. "I see the target... he's getting away! He's in the parking garage on the north side - I'm heading after him!"

"Be as loud as you like, Abyssinian," Omi said. "Balinese, you're closest to Siberian, give him some backup. I'm going to try to cut him off at the exit to the street. Abyssinian, you're on your own!"

Aya acknowledged Omi's words, then stepped back a pace, staring at the single eye before preparing himself. He kicked out at the glass viciously, putting all his strength behind the blow.

He felt the impact travel up his leg as the glass refused to budge. He winced - he would be limping on that foot for a day or two after that. The noise of the blow was a dull 'thud' that nonetheless seemed to startled the occupant of the cell. The slender form sat up on the bed, and Aya could see that it seemed to be a teenage male with almost delicate facial features. Wide violet eyes that matched his own stared back at him through the glass as the boy hugged himself tightly around the torso and scooted back on the bed, as far from the door as he could get.

Growling, Aya paced to the door, managing not to wince again despite the pain in his leg. He started to examine the lock to see if he felt he could pick it, pausing and staring when he realized it had been left open. Nervous now, expecting a trap, he reached out, grasping the handle and pulling.

The boy on the bed flinched at the opening of the door, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, lowering his head to rest on his knees until only his eyes were visible. From across the five feet or so that separated them, Aya could see the youth was trembling.

"Come on," he said impatiently, waving a hand at the boy. "We have to go now."

A spark came to life in the boy's eyes - defiance, and distrust. His spirit was bent, but not broken entirely, apparently. "Go where?" he demanded in a husky whisper, his voice quite a bit lower than Aya would have expected, given the sweet features. "Who are you?" Pale eyes flickered down to his sword, then back up to his face.

"Weiß," Aya said coolly. "We have to get you back to your home. Come on," he said again, gesturing once more. If the boy didn't come this time, he was damned well going to drag him out bodily, leg or no.

The boy seemed to sense his determination, because he rose slowly from the bed. As he moved it became obvious that he was completely naked. Aya could see needle tracks up the inside of his arms, and patches on his chest where it looked like electrodes had been hastily torn off, taking skin with them. He stood by the side of the bed, holding on to the wall for support, measuring the distance between then with uncertain eyes. "I... I don't think I can walk that far," the boy admitted in a shamed whisper.

Sheathing his sword, Aya quickly undid his trench coat, handing it to the boy. "Put this on." He considered, then nodded. "I'll carry you. But make it quick. We need to get out of here."

The boy reached out with unsteady hands for the trench coat and managed to pull it around himself. "The bio-humanoids," he murmured. "They'll be after us once HE realizes I'm gone... you can't hope to defeat them with a sword."

"What are you talking about?" Aya asked coolly, scooping him up. Before the boy could answer, Aya said sharply, "I have him Bombay. I'm getting him out."

"The target got away," Omi's voice came back full of disgust. "He had some kind of body-guard... if this was a bad Sci-fi flick, I'd say they were robots. They're incredibly strong and fast, and they don't seem to take damage! We're getting the hell out of here - the mission is aborted. Get yourself out the back way, and watch your back. Uh..." he hesitated, and Aya could hear the sound of pounding footsteps faintly through the microphone. "You'll have to decide what to do with the victim. Use your judgment, I trust you."

"Noted," Aya nodded, looking at the boy in his arms. "Bio-humanoids... are they robots of some type?" he asked, hurrying out of the building.

"Cyborgs," the boy clarified, hissing with pain as he was scooped up. Once in Aya's arms he clung to the taller man's neck for dear life, biting his lip to keep from crying out. "He's trying to create the 'perfect soldier', and they're the proto-types. He's only got two with him right now that I know of."

"His bodyguards," Aya scowled. "Where am I taking you?"

"Anywhere that's not HERE will do quite nicely," the boy replied with a world-weary sigh. “Just... not a hospital, please."

"All right," Aya nodded, continuing to move. He'd worry about the where once he was free. He made certain to avoid the parking lot, remembering where they'd seen the madman.

By the time they made it out to the street the boy was panting in short tiny breaths - the breathing of someone trying to gasp in pain while not aggravating broken ribs, as Aya knew very well from personal experience. His face was paste white under the streetlamps, making him look ghostly in contrast to his dark hair. His wide eyes were screwed shut in a grimace as he clung to Aya.

"Fuck," Aya cursed softly, the decision made. No hospitals meant that someone else would have to take care of the ribs. Which meant the Koneko. A destination in mind, Aya made his way silently, his grip on the boy gentling slightly despite his angry expression.

"Wh-where are we going?" the boy asked at one point, opening one eye enough to look around them. His breathing was slowly evening out - probably as he calmed. "You can't carry me like this forever - I'm too heavy." Despite his words, Aya realized the boy was almost unnaturally light, though he didn't look particularly underweight.

"We'll be there soon," Aya said coldly, to placate the boy. Other than that, he didn't answer. Lightweight or not, he wasn't interested in debating. Get him to the Koneko, then worry about everything else. Omi would kill him...

The boy fell silent immediately at his harsh tone, lowering his face so that his eyes were shadowed by his bangs. He glanced over Aya's shoulder, brow furrowing in concentration for a moment before smoothing again. "At least we're not being followed," he offered in a small, almost shy voice. "You don't have to take me anywhere, really. I don't want to inconvenience you further."

"You have broken ribs," Aya growled, shifting his glare to the boy. "They have to be treated."

The boy tensed, gasping in pain. "No hospitals!" he insisted, beginning to struggle in Aya's arms, making it difficult for the older man to walk without dropping him. "Let me go!"

"Quit struggling," the redhead hissed. "No hospitals. I heard you the first time. Now stay STILL."

He fell still again, panting harshly. "Nothing's broken," he murmured. "I don't need help. Really..."

"Don't lie to me," Aya commanded. He shifted the boy to a more comfortable position, tucking his head almost under Aya's chin. "Your ribs are broken, and there's no telling what other damage you've sustained."

They were nearly to the Koneko now, and from an alley ahead of them Aya saw a small dark form appear, heading in the same direction they were going. Omi, Aya identified, seeing the flash of white from the boy's hood.

"Coming up on your right, Bombay," Aya murmured, watching Omi's head turn to see him. He nodded, keeping himself from explaining the presence of the boy in his arms by careful effort. Omi was going to kill him...

Omi stopped short, squinting at them in the gloom. "Is that Siberian?" the boy exclaimed. "What ha..." he took another step closer, and frowned, glaring at Aya. "Who the HELL is that?" he demanded. In Aya's arms the boy twitched, hiding his face in Aya's shoulder.

"The subject," Aya said calmly, turning glittering eyes on his teammate. "He's injured."

Omi planted his hands on his hips and lowered his voice, as if to keep the boy from hearing him. "Then take him to a HOSPITAL, Abyssinian! You know the procedure!"

"No hospitals," Aya said, continuing to walk, his long strides eating up the ground and forcing Omi to hurry after him once the younger assassin realized he wasn't stopping to debate the point.

The boy's arms squeezed tightly around his neck for a moment, and Aya heard a soft, whispered "Thank you." Omi had to jog to keep up with Aya's longer stride, but he did it with the ease of long practice. "Abyssinian, you CAN'T take him back to the K... back to our place!" The Koneko was already in sight, just a block and a half away.

"Watch me," Aya said bluntly, staring straight ahead. He didn't acknowledge the soft words of gratitude at all.

Omi made a frustrated noise, and sighed. "What are his injuries?" he asked, apparently giving in to the inevitable. "Is he conscious?" His voice turned hopeful with those last words - after all, if the boy was unconscious, they didn't have to worry about him identifying them.

"Based on initial observation, he's got cracked ribs. Beyond that, I wasn't able to tell. We'll determine that when we get there." Aya shifted the boy in his arms, settling him into a slightly more protected position. "And yes, he's conscious."

Omi said something rather out of character for him, and glared at his teammate. They had reached the alley behind the Koneko at this point, and Omi reached out to block the door. "Let me make one thing very clear, Abyssinian," he said. "You created this problem, and you will deal with it. That means he's YOUR responsibility. You know Kritiker is NOT going to be happy about this."

Aya didn't answer beyond the faintest of nods, waiting patiently for Omi to move. He stared at Omi, arms curling the boy slightly closer.

Omi sighed and stepped aside, opening the door for him. "Take him down to the mission room," he instructed tersely. "Put him on the couch, and I'll get the first aid kit."

Aya nodded again, doing as Omi directed. He was silent on the stairs, slow as he carefully tried not to jar his charge too much. When he reached the couch, he knelt beside it, letting his arms rest there as he waited for the boy to unwind himself from around Aya.

The youth settled into the couch with a small sigh, hugging Aya's trench coat to him tightly. "I really am fine," he insisted, though the words were half-hearted. Omi vanished into the side room and came back with the first aid kit.

Aya took the kit silently before Omi had a chance to begin the examination. They'd all been trained in what to watch for. Glaring at the young assassin, he said softly, "I'll do my portion of the mission report last."

"Right," Omi said blowing his bangs out of his eyes. "I suppose you want me to go away, then? I'll use my laptop to file the report. I expect your portion to be ready by morning!" he warned.

Aya didn't answer, letting the silence between them stretch into cold discomfort before the younger man walked away. Once they were alone, Aya turned back to the boy on the couch dispassionately. "I'll get you something to wear after your wounds are tended," he said, waiting for the youth to remove his trench coat.

The boy was staring at his hands, which were fiddling with the fasteners of the trench coat. "I got you in trouble," he whispered, hunching his shoulders. "I'm sorry..."

"My choice, my responsibility," Aya said abruptly, kneeling down beside the couch again. "No blame on anyone's shoulders but mine. Now let me examine you." Though the words were kind, the tone was not, sounding impatient and faintly annoyed. He opened the kit, laying out what he thought he'd need.

The boy clutched the coat a little closer, watching him warily. "I... I really..." He paused, and seemed almost to deflate. Silently he pushed the trench coat off his shoulders, leaving it to puddle in his lap, preserving his modesty. In the better light of the mission room Aya could see mottled bruises over his torso, the ugly yellow and green colour that indicated they were all beginning to fade. The needle tracks on his arms, however, were hardly visible, having faded away almost entirely. He sat with his hands clenched in his lap, not looking up.

Carefully, Aya checked him for broken or cracked bones, strained or pulled muscles, and anything else he could think of. Not quite apologetically, he asked questions, beginning with mundane things and working his way into the harsher queries that would aid him in his examination. He kept his tone calm, though not cold, trying to somehow gentle the verbal pain he must be causing the boy.

The boy responded mostly in monosyllables, moving as directed with the ease of long practice. There were more contusions and abrasions on his back, all faded as if they were a week or more old. Though Aya checked him thoroughly, there was no sign of cracked or broken ribs. His breathing was clear and easy, chest rising and falling with no effort.

Blinking, wondering if he'd imagined the signs, Aya finally nodded, turning away and giving him a bit of privacy to right himself. "Where's your home?" he asked softly.

The boy pulled the coat up quickly, covering himself once more. He sat there on the couch, shivering, arms wrapped around his torso in much the same pose he'd been in when Aya had entered the cell. "Nowhere," he answered quietly. "Wh-what's going to happen to me? That boy seemed very upset."

"He was. He can deal with it," Aya said, chewing the inside of his cheek in thought. He finally turned back, looking thoughtfully at his charge. "Can you walk now?"

The boy glanced at him and stood hesitantly. He wobbled once, but remained on his feet without assistance. After a long moment, he nodded thoughtfully. "I think so. With a little help."

"How much help?" Aya asked, raising an eyebrow.

The boy blushed faintly, as if embarrassed. "That depends on how far you want me to go," he replied softly.

"Two flights up and down the hall," Aya directed. "Can you handle that?"

"I think so," the boy repeated, and took an unsteady step towards the stairs. He winced as he moved, reaching out instinctively for balance and catching at Aya's arm. "I'm sorry... it's just been so long since I've been out of that cell."

"Sit down," he directed softly, putting away the kit. When he returned, Aya pulled the boy back into his arms, carrying him up the flights of stairs effortlessly. He ignored the curious gazes from Ken and Yohji as he passed them in the hallway, slipping into his room and closing the door firmly behind him before setting the boy down.

The youth sat on the bed, looking adrift and lost in the much-too-large jacket. He peered up at Aya with his wide violet eyes. "Now what?" he asked softly.

"Now, we get you clothing and you rest," Aya said. "Tomorrow, we can worry about where you'll go."

"Here?" the youth asked, looking around curiously. "Is this... is this your room? I don't want to put you out of a bed..."

"Here," Aya nodded, moving to a dresser and rummaging through it. He came up with a soft, worn t-shirt and some drawstring pants. The pants would be too long for the boy, but that could be handled by rolling the cuffs. Handing them over, he turned his back again.

There was a pause, followed by the rustling of fabric. After a moment the boy spoke again. "You can turn around now."

Aya did so, nodding. "Get some rest. I'll be around if you need me," he said, nodding his head toward the bed and holding his hand out for the trench coat.

The boy handed it to him, looking at him curiously. "But... where will you sleep?"

"I'll be fine," Aya dismissed the question. He turned, hanging up the coat before rummaging for more clothing, eventually choosing jeans and a soft button-up shirt. He changed seemingly without modesty, tossing the discarded clothing into a hamper. "Get sleep."

The boy arranged himself on the bed, pulling the covers up over him hesitantly. "W-will you be very far?" he asked quietly.

For a moment, the mask cracked. Aya stood over him, a hand drifting out to brush away the boy's bangs. "How far do you need me to be?" he asked softly, eyes large and gentle.

"I..." the boy turned his head so his face was hidden in the pillow, incidentally brushing his cheek against Aya's fingers. "I'm just... I keep thinking that I'm going to wake up soon," he whispered, his words muffled by the pillow but still understandable. "It's too good to be true... that I'm really out of there..."

"You aren't," Aya said, kneeling and drawing the boy's face back out of the pillow. "I would not leave you there."

The youth stared up at him, tears shining in his eyes though none fell. "You don't even know me," the boy murmured, voice breaking. "Why did you help me? Why would you get yourself in trouble to help me?"

"I can handle it," Aya shook his head, almost letting the shutters down over his eyes. But the tears caught at him, and he held himself from doing so - barely. "No one should live like you were. No one should be forced to endure such misery."

The boy nodded slowly. "W-wakatta. I think... I'd forgotten the good that Earthians can have in them," he murmured, more to himself than to Aya. "I... I think I can sleep now. If you don't go too far."

"Earthians?" Aya raised an eyebrow again, then moved, settling himself against the wall. "I will be right here."

The boy flushed faintly, and burrowed into the covers. Within moments he was sound asleep, clearly exhausted for his ordeal. One small hand crept out to clutch at the pillow beside him, and his brow furrowed, as if he searched for something in his sleep and could not find it. In rest he looked even younger, perhaps fifteen at most.

Hesitantly, Aya moved closer, reaching out and laying one hand atop the fingers clutching at the pillow. He couldn't really understand why the boy tugged at his heartstrings the way he did, but Aya wasn't about to ignore that, either.

Immediately the fingers unclenched from the fabric and twined around his instead, and part of the frown smoothed out of the boy's face as he fell into a more restful sleep. He was the picture of innocence, much like Omi when the youngest Weiß was off guard.

Aya smiled at that, resting his head on his arm as he watched the boy. In the back of his mind, it occurred to him that he'd have to find out the boy's name come morning. But until then, it didn't matter, so long as he looked peaceful for a change.

Aya's eyes slowly opened, soft and violet in the morning light. He blinked when he realized he was seated on the floor, with his head on his bed, until memory returned. Looking up, he stilled when confronted by two huge eyes peering at him solemnly. His hand was still clasped firmly in those warm fingers. Aya felt a faint blush rising in his cheeks and forced himself not to shake his head to dispel the sensation.

"Ohayou," the boy whispered, not moving as if afraid of scaring Aya away. "You... you kept the nightmares away. Thank you..."

"What's your name?" Aya asked, shying away from the idea that he'd done anything to help the boy's nightmares.

The youth blinked at him. "Chihaya," he answered. He released Aya's fingers, blushing faintly himself. "I'm sorry... I've made you uncomfortable."

"Chihaya," Aya tasted the name. "I'm Aya." Slowly he rose, unfolding his body with only the faintest of winces at how stiff he felt.

Chihaya blinked, and smiled faintly. "I knew an Aya once," he murmured. "She was a girl though... and she hated me," he concluded, looking suddenly forlorn.

"She did?" Aya asked, sitting down on the bed beside the boy. "Why?"

Chihaya blinked, and shifted uncomfortably, one hand coming up to tug at his hair in what seemed to be a nervous gesture. "Oh... no reason in particular," he mumbled, hiding his eyes. "Most people... didn't really like me, honestly."

"I won't pry," Aya nodded, sensing Chihaya's need for secrecy. "Can you eat?"

"Food?" Chihaya's eyes widened, and he gave Aya a wistful look. "Real food? Hontou ni?"

"As opposed to what?" Aya blinked, rising and offering Chihaya a hand.

"IVs," Chihaya replied, touching the inside of his arm where all the needle tracks were... or rather, had been. There was no sign of them now.

Aya reached out, grasping the arm and examining it closely. "Incredible," he murmured, smoothing his fingers over the flawless skin. "How did they disappear so quickly?"

The boy's flush darkened, and he tugged on his arm to try to get it back. "I... I'm a fast healer," he whispered, eyes lowered again.

"Very fast," Aya said dryly, then blinked. "Your ribs were cracked, weren't they? When you were in the cell, they were cracked."

"Y-yes..." Chihaya admitted slowly. "They were. But I told you I would be okay."

"Impressive," Aya noted softly. "And very useful, if you find yourself in trouble. I'll assume you can walk, then, today?" He offer Chihaya a hand again, waiting for the young man to take it.

"Assuming my muscles remember how to do it," Chihaya agreed, taking his hand and standing slowly. His legs seemed steadier today, though he still looked lost in Aya's clothing.

"Keep hold of me," Aya suggested, leading him out of the room and into the common kitchen the four assassins shared.

Chihaya clung to him, more for emotional support than physical, it seemed. In the kitchen only Ken was present, though dishes in the sink indicated Omi had come and gone already, headed out for school. Yohji wouldn't be seen for some time yet, of course. Ken looked up as they entered, one eyebrow raised. "Hey," he greeted the two of them. "Who's this?"

Aya spared a brief glance at his teammate, then settled Chihaya at the table. "Chihaya. He'll be a guest here until further notice." He glared half-heartedly at Ken. "Omi has already informed me that his welfare is my responsibility alone," he assured the man, moving to the fridge and pulling out some eggs. They should go down easily enough, provided they were made without too much seasoning.

Ken blinked at him. "Uh... okay..." he agreed mildly, turning to examine Chihaya. The younger boy sat quietly in his chair, eyes on his hands in his lap. "I'm Ken," the ex-soccer-player offered. "You must be the guy Aya rescued last night? How come..." he paused, and shook his head ruefully. "None of my business, I guess."

Aya shot a glance at Ken, then sighed. "Ken lives here, too. You'll likely run into him occasionally," he offered Chihaya.

Chihaya nodded, raising his eyes to briefly look at the other youth. "Yoroshiku onegai shimasu," he murmured, the formal phrase coming automatically. Ken smiled back at him.

"What happened last night, Ken?" Aya asked as he cooked. "Omi said something about robots and bad science fiction?"

Ken shivered, an odd look crossing his face. "It was the WEIRDEST damn thing, Aya," he said, dropping his spoon back into his cereal as Chihaya looked on with interest. "There were these two identical guys - redheads. They were faster than all hell, and stronger than anything I've ever seen. I managed to get inside the guard of one of them, but my claw... it was like punching into solid steel. I ripped his clothes, and I KNOW I cut flesh, because there was blood. But he didn't even seem to notice... and I swear to God there were sparks coming out of his chest."

"Bio-humanoids?" Aya asked, twisting to look at Chihaya curiously. His eyebrow arched, but he didn't seem particularly upset by the idea.

Chihaya nodded. "Yes. They're cyborgs, created to be the ultimate weapon. They're not perfected yet, or you never would have gotten away from them, but he's making progress." His eyes dropped again. "He's been working on it for years, getting funding from various governments all over the world."

"Omi will like that," Aya chuckled. "His fears confirmed. We really are in a bad science fiction film." He shook his head. "We'll have to find a way around them, of course."

Ken made a face. "I don't think *I* like it very much," he admitted, slurping the last of his cereal into his mouth and standing to dump the bowl in the sink. "I'll go open the shop... come down whenever you're ready," he said, waving as he headed for the stairs. "Uh... nice to meet you, Chihaya. Sorry you got dragged into all this."

"Ken, we've been in worse situations. Cyborgs can't beat... them on a good day, I'm sure. Once we know their weakness, we'll win," Aya said firmly, careful not to mention the name of their opposing team. Chihaya didn't need to know everything just yet.

Chihaya watched the dark-haired man clatter down the stairs, then turned to his rescuer. "Now what?" he asked, eyeing the food Aya was preparing hungrily. "What shop did he mean?"

"We run a flower shop downstairs." Aya slid a plate in front of Chihaya piled full of eggs. He'd used half the carton, but it was easy enough to replace. "I work morning shift today. You should rest for a while."

Chihaya dug into the food like a starving puppy, though he was careful not to eat so fast that he would be sick. He stopped after only a few bites, however, sighing. "My stomach isn't used to solid food any more," he admitted, looking a little queasy. "I... could I come sit where you are?" he asked shyly, looking up at Aya. "I'll stay out of the way, I promise..."

Aya considered the request, then nodded. "We'll put you to work," he said, smiling faintly at Chihaya. "Something not too strenuous." He finished eating, wracking his brain for something Chihaya could do before coming up with, "We just got a new shipment of cards in. Could you arrange them in their holders?" The holders were small plexiglass things, the cards the size of business cards. Chihaya would easily be able to sit in a corner and do it, though the task was often an all-day thing for everyone else, given the way they'd have to divide their duties.

Chihaya nodded eagerly, face brightening. "Yes! I can do that."

Aya nodded, allowing a faint smile to grace his lips briefly before he hid the expression behind his standard, emotionless mask. Taking their plates, he scrubbed them clean, then went back to his room to change into a proper work outfit, unable to give Chihaya anything that might fit him. Once that was done, he beckoned the boy downstairs, showing him the shop briefly before setting him to his task and flipping the sign to 'open.'

Buso, the shop cat, wandered out - a cranky calico nicknamed 'Busu' by Ken, who hated everyone but Momoe-san and frequently sent the Weiß boys in search of bandages for scratched limbs. She took one look at Aya, sniffed, and trotted over to Chihaya, where she promptly wound about the boy's ankles, purring like a freight train. Chihaya made a surprised noise, and leaned down to scoop the massive cat into his arms before Aya could warn the boy about her contrary nature. To his shock the cat continued to purr, snuggling up to the boy and head-butting his chin as the youth made small cat-noises back to the animal.

Aya stared at Chihaya for several minutes in bemusement, then angled a glance at Ken, who shrugged. Shaking his head, he brought the box of cards and the holder to Chihaya, setting them down in front of him while remaining well out of the way of the cat. "Are you comfortable?" he asked softly.

Chihaya looked up from where he was rubbing his face in the cat's silky fur, and smiled the brightest smile Aya had ever seen. "Oh, yes!" he exclaimed, nodding vigorously. "She's a lovely cat... I'd forgotten how wonderful cats are." He blinked at the cards Aya had placed before him, and reluctantly released the cat. "Oh... what do I do with these?"

"Pet the cat if you like," Aya said, noting the way Buso clung to Chihaya's lap. "She doesn't like any of us. The cards can wait. It's our job, really, not yours." He watched Chihaya, wondering what it was about the boy that drew the curmudgeonly cat.

Chihaya laughed, a bright silvery sound of pure mirth. "No, she likes you very much," he said. "She just doesn't want you to get over-inflated egos by having someone as wonderful as she is show affection to you." He grinned as he spoke, his fingers running over the cat's back again and again.

Aya raised an eyebrow, shivering slightly at the pure happiness of the boy's laugh. Exchanging another glance with his teammate, he leaned against the table. "And what gives you that idea?"

"Why, she told me so, of course," Chihaya told him matter-of-factly, though his eyes still sparkled with mirth. "Now, what do I do with these cards? I want to help you... it's the LEAST I can do after you rescued me!"

"Hmm," Aya said good-naturedly, stepping forward carefully and setting up the fifteen cards in their slots so that Chihaya knew where each style went. "This is the first of three boxes and holders," he noted. "When you're done, if you're still willing, I'll bring you the next batch."

Chihaya nodded and set to work, a tiny frown of concentration on his face that made him look even cuter. He nearly rivaled Omi for title of 'cutest boy ever to be in a flower shop'. Buso curled up in his lap, apparently content to just sit and purr without any prompting from her newest toy.

Aya set to his duties with single-minded determination, trying and failing to ignore his new charge. His eyes kept returning to Chihaya thoughtfully. He'd sounded so earnest when he'd talked about Buso's attitude... The idea that he could speak to animals was ridiculous. But, he thought, was it any more ridiculous than Schwarz's powers?

Ken sidled up to Aya after several minutes of watching the redhead watch the boy. "Ne, Aya," the younger assassin said quietly, "Did you file your mission report last night? Omi was muttering about it this morning before he left for school, and he was swearing, so you KNOW he's pissed. I know Yohji and I gave him our reports last night..." he trailed off with one eyebrow raised.

Aya's jaw tightened. "No, I did not," he said shortly, expression abruptly darkening. He jerked his attention back to the arrangement he was somehow managing not to mangle. He didn't offer any explanation or excuse to his teammate, furious with himself. What was wrong with him lately?

Ken gave him a disbelieving look. "What's up with you, Aya? It's not like you to break mission procedure... hell, you're usually the one reminding US that we're not there to save people, just to stop the target. And I can't remember the last time you forgot to put in your report. Who IS this kid? Someone you know?"

Aya looked up, meeting Ken's eyes quietly. "No. He's not." He furrowed his brow, glancing back at Chihaya. "He merely reminds me of someone I know. The mission report will be filed this afternoon. Nothing is 'up' with me." He glared down at the flowers.

Ken shrugged. "Your call, Aya. But fair warning, Omi's pissed about something, and I don't need three guesses to tell you what set him off. If I were you, I'd make sure I had that report done by the time Omi gets back." He wandered off as several customers entered the shop, greeting them enthusiastically.

|Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3| |Part 4| |Part 5| |Part 6|

Return to Weiss Kreuz Page

Return to the Main Index

Email Miko no da
Email Miyaka