Disclaimer: Same as in previous parts...

Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Language, Poetry, Angst, Cool Moms
Dedications: To Black Widow... for her Birthday.

It was the wee hours of the morning before Aya managed to drag his exhausted and unsatisfied posterior in the door. His boots thudded heavy on the stair as he went up to the apartments above. Inwardly, he was railing at himself.

'How could you *do* that to Yohji?!? Just leave him at the restaurant… like nothing was happening between you… You broke your promise… Jesus, Ran… What the fuck were you thinking?!?'

His hand turned the knob and Aya went into the darkened room inside. Thinking it a good idea not to disturb anyone, he started for the stairs to the bedrooms. He was stilled by the light in the kitchen and the scent of tea.

"No use trying to be stealthy, Aya… I know you're there. Come here for a second, okay?" Omi's voice. Grave. Unhappy.

Not a good sign.

Defeated by his failure to catch Takatori and by his broken promise to the blond, Aya went into the lighted room. Omi was sitting at the kitchen table, cup of tea in his hands and another waiting on the other side. "I'm really tired, Omi… Whatever it is can wait until morning."

Omi held up one small hand, preventing the older youth from saying more. "You're going to have to cover Yohji's morning shift, Aya."

The sentence brought the redhead to full wakefulness. His eyes narrowed. He didn't like this starting point in the conversation. "Why?"

Taking a sip of his tea, Omi paused until he could be sure that his team mate wouldn't interrupt him. "Because Yohji's not here and won't be for a few weeks. He's gone to America to deal with some family related issues." The young blond gave him a sideways look. "At least, that's what the public excuse is…"

'Shit… I didn't think… who knew he'd take it so hard?'

"Privately, I know what happened, Aya." Omi gave him a dark look, which was impressive considering his baby-face. "I couldn't help but hear it earlier tonight while Yohji was on the phone with his mother. He's pretty hurt."

Aya dropped into the chair before him and let his katana clatter to the floor. He found the urge to bury it inside his own gut unnerving. "Where did he go?"

"To the States. His mother was very insistent that he get away from here for a while." Omi pushed the cup of tea towards Aya and gave him a stern look. "I knew that you two were dating. I hoped something good would come from it. I don't like what I'm seeing, Aya."

The words struck a chord in the redhead, made him angry. "I don't think you have any right to say a fucking word about it, Omi." He almost regretted it when he saw the young face before him harden. Nobody in Weiss liked that look. Nobody wanted Omi - young, 'should-be-living-like-a-real-teenager' - Omi having to pretend that he was the most mature of the team.

"Like hell I don't," the younger assassin said softly. He lifted his cobalt gaze to Aya's, bored it through him like a drill. "When what you do jeopardizes the harmony of Weiss, I've got every right to say what I damn well please."

Aya didn't say a word. He wanted to run to his room, close the door against the world, against the disapproval in Omi's eyes, and just bury himself in his covers. He must have screwed Yohji up in a major way to have him running off to America.

"It was his *birthday*, Aya. Couldn't you put your need for revenge aside for *one night*?" Omi's question lingered in the air. When no answer was forthcoming, he gave his team mate a sad look. "I see…"

The youth rose from his seat, pouring the dregs of his cold tea into the sink. "In three weeks, Yohji's supposed to be back. If you can't salvage what's left of your heart, then just leave him be. I don't want this any worse than it already is." Omi turned around to stare hard at Aya. "I'd like to see Yohji back on the team… I'd like to see him at peak performance both in Weiss and in his normal life."

Violet eyes watched Omi move to the doorway. "Ken is oblivious, as always, so don't discuss it with him." The blue gaze lingered on the redhead. "… Aya… If Yohji forgives you… don't break his trust again." Then, the blond was heading up the stairs, his final words echoing softly down.

"Of course, that's all dependent on *if* he comes back..."

Miserable at his own stupidity, Aya glared down at his teacup.

… if he comes back at all…

One gloved hand swept the delicate china away angrily, a satisfying shatter resounding through the kitchen. Aya had worked so hard… wanted it so badly… now, he'd done the unthinkable… He should have known better. Yohji was more emotional than he let on. His own actions, the broken promise, they could never be retracted.

If he couldn't forgive himself, then how could he ever expect Yohji Kudou to do the same?

***

Yohji stepped off the plane and walked down the ramp. His eyes scouted around for his mother first thing after he again saw the inside of KCI. A sight he hadn't seen in quite a number of years, when his bastard of a father had demanded he come to Japan for a 'proper' education.

Ah, but it was nice to be back in Kansas City.

A shrill whistle caught his attention and he turned to see Sharon Kudou standing across the way. There was a bit more gray hair than he remembered, but it was the same woman who'd raised him. He watched her wave and then come forward, cutting through the sea of bodies like they weren't even there.

That was his mom. Still as graceful as she ever was since her days with the ballet troupe.

Yohji dropped his backpack when she got close and caught her in his arms, holding her tight. Nothing could comfort someone as good as a hug from mom… nothing. At least this part of his life hadn't taken a turn for the worst. "Missed ya, mom."

Her embrace around his waist was strong as ever. "I missed you too, dear. How was the flight?"

"Nerve wracking," Yohji admitted. He buried his face in his mother's sweetly scented hair. "Right now, I need a smoke and something to eat… soon."

Sharon pulled back and smiled up at her son's face. "Then we'd better get your luggage. I could do with a bite myself."

Chuckling, Yohji pulled his mother's arm up and promptly bit into it. "There, you've had your bite… Let's go." His assassin's reflexes saved him from being lightly smacked on the arm.

"Ungrateful brat… You should know better than to dodge your mother." Her laughter was music to his ears. She took his hand and led him to the baggage claim. "We'll get the hell out of here and feed you. Then, it's off to the old homestead. I've got your room ready and waiting."

Yohji's eyes glimmered with tears. He'd missed this. His mother was a never ending source of happiness in his otherwise tragic life. The blond hadn't realized how much he needed the comfort she could give. Somehow, she always knew just how much mothering he could take and when to quit.

They got to her truck without incident and she gave him the keys. Sharon answered his confused look with a chuckle. "You drive. I'd like to get back to the city fast and I don't trust my reflexes with all the assholes out today."

"Mom, I thought you hated my driving." Yohji got in the drivers side and buckled up.

"No, son, I hated your drag racing." She reached out and stroked a hand through his golden, shoulder-length locks. "Your driving was always fine to me." Sharon smiled tenderly at him. "I wish you hadn't cut your hair, Yohji."

The blond grinned. "I had to. Wasn't fun to have it grabbed by irate targets when I was a PI." He glanced at her and then back to the road. "Mom… is it me?"

The question caught Sharon off-guard and she looked at her son tenderly. "What do you mean, Yohji?" Her dark hair started to flutter around her face as he turned the truck onto the highway.

"Am I that unlucky in relationships? Jo… Asuka… Ran… The list of failures just seems to get longer everytime I come home."

"Oh, Yohji… You're a good person. You always were… even now." Something in her eyes shot warning bells through the blond - as if she knew something she wasn't letting on yet. "If Ran doesn't have the balls to love you like you deserve, then you don't need him."

"That's the problem, ma… I do need him… like I need the air in my lungs." He started when Sharon held out a lit cigarette for him. "Thought you didn't like my nasty habit?" Yohji took it anyway.

She smiled at him gently. "So long as it helps you keep your sanity, I'll deal with it."