Violet eyes
Chapter 2
“Oyaho Aya-kun.”
Aya Fujimiya looked up at the greeting, and was met by the sight of an exhausted
looking Omi. The boy was stifling a yawn, and had dark shadows around his blue
eyes. Responding back with his usual “Hn,” Aya stepped away from the counter
he had been leaning against, over to the coffee pot. Topping off his own cup,
he poured another and offered it to young blonde.
Omi accepted the mug, and in return handed the older assassin a list of paper.
“I went over the case files last night, and here is a list of the clubs that
I think you should try to get a job in. These three places are the ones with
the strongest links to the mission, and with luck at least one of them will
be hiring.” Omi then took a swallow of coffee, hoping the bitter beverage
would wash away the taste in his mouth that he got whenever he thought about
the case. The actual work hadn’t kept him up that late last night, but he
had had trouble falling asleep afterward, visions of the victims floating in
his mind.
“Hn”. Aya looked down at the list, instantly recognizing the three names.
He had also spent a good portion of the night going over the files Manx had
given them. It was in the first bar, Bacchus that he was hoping to find work.
While the place had a well-earned reputation of being a meat market of a rather
seedy nature, it was a better prospect than the other two establishments. The
Velvet Room was a fetish club, specializing in but not limited to S/M. The other
place, going by the non-assuming non-de plume Palace, was known as a haven for
the cross-dressing members of the gay community. Aya drew the line at dressing
in drag, which was pretty much required of the Palace’s employees, and didn’t
even want to think about what he would do if hired by the Velvet Room.
Trying to distract himself from his future work prospects, Aya thought over
all the information they had on the target for this mission. It was clear, besides
being a sick bastard with a thing for human eyes and inflicting pain, that they
were dealing with an intelligent and cautious individual. None of the victims
could recall ever catching a glimpse of their attacker. They all had been knocked
unconscious from behind, several of the victims also suspected that their drinks
might have been tampered with. When they regained awareness, they found themselves
blindfolded and cuffed. They were then severally beaten and strangled over the
period of one to three days. They would once again be rendered unconscious,
and when they awakened had found their eyes removed. It was after this event
that the later victims had been raped. Afterwards, they were drugged and abandoned
in some back alley not far from the clubs they had been taken from. None of
the young men had ever recalled catching a glimpse of their abuser, and could
not even recollect hearing him talk. The only thing they could remember about
the man (and this was assuming the attacker was male, but it fit the profile)
was that he would often whistle while he was attacking them. They all agreed
that the song sounded foreign, most likely classical in nature. One of the rape
victims had commented that it had sounded Spanish, but couldn’t elaborate
any further than that. So Weiss was left with identifying a man who listened
to classical music, and from the little physical evidence gathered (no semen,
saliva, skin tissue or hairs, the man had been obsessively careful), a strong
man with big hands. The best the assassins could hope for was that the attacker
would take the bait presented to him in the form of Aya and Ken.
Seeing the red head lost in thought, Omi finished his breakfast and gathered
up the courage for what he knew he had to ask. “Uhhm, Aya… “ Omi began
carefully, waiting until the full attention of violet eyes were focused on him.
“This looks like it is going to be a very difficult case, what with the little
evidence we have to go on. Even with you working one of the bars, and Ken visiting
the others, it is still leaving a lot of things to chance. Not to mention the
fact I can’t even imagine Ken knowing how to handle himself in some of these
places, like the Velvet Room. Would it really hurt to see if Yohji would be
interested in helping Ken out with the canvassing?” The teenager had finished
in a rush, trying to finish before Aya glared him into silence.
Aya was in the middle of gracing his younger teammate with one of his infamous
gazes, when he paused to really think about this mission. What Omi said was
true, they would have a hard enough time tracking down the attacker with the
full team working on it, let alone at less than complete strength. As angry
as Aya was with the blonde playboy at the moment, he had to admit that Yohji
was usually focused and attentive during a mission. Refusing to see if the older
man was interested in helping out would pretty much be letting Aya’s feelings
influence matters. Besides, there was no guarantee that the man would even want
to join the mission. As was mentioned the previous night, there was no damsel
in distress for Yohji to rescue, and the hard work was sure to frighten the
older man away.
Nodding his head, Aya walked over to the sink, trying to ignore the smile that
broke out on Omi’s face upon his agreement. Washing out his coffee cup, the
swordsman began to leave the kitchen. Pausing at the door, he informed Omi of
his plans for the day. “I am going to open the shop, but will be leaving early
to take care of a few things before trying to find a position at one of the
bars. I will call to let you know which one hires me. If Yohji shows up to work
his shift today, you or Ken can ask him about the case then.”
Wincing at the stab of pain caused by a beam of sunlight impacting upon his
unguarded eyes, Yohji quickly settled his sunglasses upon his face and slowly
made his way into thankfully uncrowded flower shop. Ken glanced up, a teasing
smile upon his face, and remarked, “It’s alive”. This earned him a glare
from bloodshot emerald eyes before the sunglasses were pushed back up the blonde’s
nose. Settling himself at the register as he sipped his third cup of coffee
of the day, Yohji was determined to ignore his surroundings until he became
more awake.
Stifling a yawn, the lanky assassin tried to gather his much scattered wits
in hopes of being able to function somewhat. He had consumed quite a large amount
of alcohol last night, even by his own standards. He had started the drinking
binge early in the afternoon after dodging work, and had barely been able to
drag himself home sometime in the middle of the night. It was part of an all
too familiar routine lately. Yohji was finding it almost impossible to remain
at home or at work for any amount of time. All too often, disturbing thoughts
and emotions about a certain teammate would invade his head, and he would find
it necessary to flee for the sanctuary of a bar. Drinking said thoughts into
oblivion; the blonde would stagger home, only to have the cycle repeat itself
the next day. The one good thing about his current course of action was that
he was too often inebriated to remember the dreams that had taken to tormenting
him lately, dreams that featured a rather familiar red head.
Glancing around the shop, Yohji could find no trace of his personal tormentor.
Omi was at school for the day, and Ken was busy putting the finishing touches
on several orders. They would have to be delivered in the afternoon, and after
Yohji’s escape yesterday, the playboy was willing to believe that he would
not be allowed to make the deliveries today. That meant that Aya must be back
in the greenhouse or storeroom.
Grateful for his reprieve, however temporary, Yohji took the opportunity to
steel himself for what promised to be a long day. He didn’t know what god
or demon he had offended so terribly as to find himself mired in his current
situation, but he was not happy. Maybe he was paying for his sins, all the lives
he had taken during his current profession. Or maybe it was simply karma itself
at work. There was some delightful irony in that a man who was well known, one
could say down right notorious even, for loving and leaving discovering that
he himself was in love with a man who had solid ice where other people had hearts.
He had become aware of his current predicament a little over a month ago, during
a mission one night. Abyssinian had split off from the group to find and dispatch
the target, and in the course of a pitched battle against said target’s security
guards, lost radio contact with the group. Yohji had broken out into an almost
berserker rage, racing off to find and help his teammate. He had come across
the swordsman calmly cleaning his katana on the jacket of the now deceased target,
surrounded by the guards’ bodies. The older blonde had skidded to a stop,
and had to hold back a sudden urge to wrap his arms around Aya and never let
go. Only the red head lifting up his blade and regarding the other assassin
with a cold, curious glance had stopped Yohji, as Omi and Ken finally caught
up with the older members of Weiss. The playboy had not been able to answer
Bombay’s query of what had caused him to take off like that. It was later
that same night, when he tried to puzzle out what had made him to act out in
such a concerned manner, that blonde realized that somehow he had fallen in
love with Aya. In love. With Aya. Somehow having the two words, love and Aya,
in the same sentence seemed rather like some bizarre oxymoron. The idea of anyone
falling in love with the cold assassin seemed preposterous. Let alone said deluded
fool ever hoping the red head would return the feeling.
Falling in lust with Aya was something that Yohji could comprehend only too
easily. Pale, silky looking skin that was only accentuated by crimson hair and
violet eyes enhanced a lithe, graceful build and beautiful face. Beautiful and
graceful were two words that described the red head very well. Unfortunately,
so did cold and inhuman. Aya “I need no one” Fujimiya was like a perfectly
crafted porcelain doll that had been brought to life, with all of the warmth
one might expect from a piece of clay. Yohji could imagine only two reactions
if he tried to declare his love to his fellow assassin. The positive one would
end with Aya decimating him with a glare of scorn and disgust. The negative
reaction would be the red head skewering Yohji with his sword. Either one was
to be avoided at all costs.
Wallowing in his misery, Yohji quickly rang up the few sales that came his way,
ignoring Ken who seemed to want to talk to him about something. The tall blonde
threw himself into flirting with anything female that came into the store. After
an hour or so, he realized that it was only Ken and himself waiting on the customers.
Aya usually was out front by now, working on his precious flower arrangements.
Trying to act casual, Yohji leaned against the counter when the last customer
left, and asked Ken where their fellow co-worker was.
Ken looked up in surprise at the question. Yohji had done his best to ignore
the brunette, who had been trying to talk to him, the whole shift. Omi had informed
Ken of Aya’s acquiescence on asking the playboy if he would care to take part
of the mission as the teenager left for school. Ken had then spent the morning
working alongside a withdrawn Aya who was busy trying to set up the store and
finish the floral arrangements that had been pre-ordered. Shortly before noon
the red head had headed upstairs, and the younger man had caught sight of him
departing a half hour later, wearing a leather trench coat and shades. It wasn’t
long after that when Yohji had staggered into the store, clearly not in the
best of moods.
Glancing around the empty shop, Ken decided that now would be a good time to
brief Yohji. They should have a few minutes of peace before their fan club mobbed
the place. He quickly recounted the previous evening, of Manx’s visit and
the acceptance of another mission. The older assassin visibly paled as the athlete
described the victims and what they had been put through. However, the biggest
reaction came when Ken mentioned Aya’s decision to go undercover at one of
the bars. The flabbergasted look did much to appease the slight resentment the
younger man had been feeling towards Yohji lately for his delinquent nature.
“WHAT???? You guys decided to let Aya go undercover in that kind of place.
AYA??? Why didn’t you wait for me before deciding to follow this… insane
plan?” Ken winced at the tone, the blonde was practically shrieking.
“We didn’t wait for you because we had no clue as to when you would ever
return, or even if you would want to take part in the mission. You haven’t
exactly been mister reliable and hard working lately. A decision had to be made,
and the man did volunteer.”
It was Yohji’s turn to wince at his friend’s tone this time, the anger apparent
in Ken’s voice. He knew he had been annoying his teammates with his current
actions, and everything Ken had said was true. Harsh, but true. But really,
Aya? In a gay bar? And the man had actually volunteered? Yohji would of bet
his precious car that the swordsman would take his katana to anyone who would
dare suggest such a plan to him, let alone go along with it willingly. The man
was well known for his dislike of crowded places, and would most likely be in
pain from the sound system alone. This was a person whose idea of an enjoyable
evening was locking himself in his room with a book and a pot of tea, classical
music low in the background. The few times that Aya had been forced to go into
places of entertainment on previous assignments he had made it quite clear that
if it wasn’t for the mission, he would never have set foot in the establishment.
And now Yohji was left to comprehend the man not only setting said foot into
such a club, but willing to work there, and for possibly a couple of weeks.
The blonde’s brow furrowed as he tried to take all of this in. However, he
kept being sidetracked by the same thought. Aya, in a gay bar. Aya, mister repressed
as all hell, touch me and die, was going to be working in a gay bar. Beautiful,
icy Aya working in a place where he was sure to cause the men there to drool
over and hit on the red head. Yohji’s red head. Okay, that’s enough now,
Yohji thought to himself. He never has nor ever will be anything other than
your teammate. Focus on what Ken has been telling you about the mission. Try
as he could though, the assassin could not shake an image of Aya, dressed in
that obnoxious orange sweater, wielding his sword in one hand and a drink tray
in another, trying in vain to fend off a room full of amorous men.
Ken shot a glance first at the clock, then towards the doorway that he was expecting
a horde of school girls to come charging through any minute. Yohji appeared
deep in thought, and while the brunette hated to break into the man’s musings,
he would really like an answer before Yohji took the opportunity to disappear
again. The younger assassin was not looking forward to spending this evening
and the next several wandering around a bunch of strange bars without the prospect
of backup. Besides, the blonde had more experience with the environment this
mission was sending Weiss into, what with his habit of dating anything pretty
and up for a good time. “Ah, Yohji, I hate to rush you, but, uhm, yes or no?”
At the question, the blonde shook himself and seemed to remember that Ken was
standing right next to him, waiting for an answer. Shoving his shades up onto
his forehead, Yohji turned a rather serious gaze on his teammate. “I’m in.
I can’t believe that you guys actually thought you could handle this mission
without me. I’ll help you canvass the bars, and be there to cover Aya’s
ass when he fails miserably at this assignment. Maybe next time you guys will
remember to wait for the professionals before trying something crazy like this.”
Yohji was beginning to relish the idea of seeing his straitlaced partners struggle
with this case, and with being presented of a chance to witness his seemingly
perfect leader fail at a mission. And then I can swoop in and rescue the poor
darling, Yohji thought gleefully. Scenario after scenario began to flit through
the blonde’s head, different ways he would step in and save his overwhelmed
red head. Fortunately, before he could start drooling at fantasy Aya’s ways
of expressing his gratitude for being rescued, Yohji was distracted by Omi’s
rushed entrance into the flower shop.
Knowing that the teenager’s return from school signaled that very shortly
a crowd of young women eager to see their favorite bishonen would besiege the
shop, Ken quickly flashed a thumb’s up at his friend. Smiling, Omi tied on
an apron around his waist while informing his co-workers that he had received
a message from Aya.
“Huh, what, did Aya manage to find a job already?” Ken asked, eyes fixed
on the door.
“Hai, when I got out of class today there was a voicemail from him. It seems
that he is the newest employee at Bacchus, and starts tonight. I don’t think
that he even got a chance to go to any other of the clubs on the list. That’s
one less place that you and Yohji need to check out. Hopefully Aya will come
across some information that will make your search easier.” Omi was exceedingly
cheerful, even for him and with the prospect of a large group of romance-minded
teenage girl descending upon the premises shortly. The mission was beginning
to come together, and for the first time in several weeks, Yohji seemed interested
in being a member of Weiss. Omi’s little family was together again.
“And this is where you’ll enter the drink orders. The system isn’t that
complicated, but you might want to practice on it for a little bit. You enter
your id here, and then pretty much just touch the screen on what you want to
order. I’ll leave you alone with it for a bit while I go out and have a cigarette.”
Aya glanced up from the terminal he had been studying to watch his new co-worker
depart. The young man, a brunette with caramel highlights named Seiichi, had
been showing him around the club so he would be ready to wait tables that night.
Judging by the boy’s attire, Aya, or Makoto Matsumoto (which was Aya’s identity
for this mission), had dressed a bit on the conservative side. Tight shirt and
jeans did not compare to a mesh top and obscenely tight cutoffs. However, it
had not prevented the assassin from being hired on the spot. As soon as the
manager had come out and given the red head a once over, he had been offered
the position. He hadn’t even had the chance to present the fake set of references
and work history that Omi had compiled for him. The manager, a stocky man in
his mid thirties named Kei, had merely handed him over to Seiichi to be given
a crash course in working at Bacchus once it was established that “Makoto”
was able to start immediately. Luckily, Aya’s previous experience at waiting
tables, from past missions and the time before he had become an assassin, helped
him to grasp much of the information the other waiter was throwing at him. Concentrating
on figuring out the club’s computer system, Aya was none the less aware of
his new superior coming over to stand beside him.
“How’s it going Red, taking everything in ok? Any questions, just ask Seiichi,
he’s one of our best servers.” Getting the impression that Omi probably
hadn’t of need to come up with a fake identity at all, as everyone had started
calling him Red as soon as he was hired, Aya just nodded and kept practicing
with the screen. Kei continued to stand besides the young man, watching him
learn the system.
Usually Kei preferred to hire more outgoing people to work at Bacchus. The customers
came here to have a good time, and to do some serious flirting. The employees
were counted on to be able to hold their own, and to be part of the attraction
of the bar. But there were two reasons why the older had decided to go against
type upon hiring the red head. The first was because of the recent attacks on
patrons and employees of the clubs in this area. Bacchus had lost several employees
because of the crimes, and was by no means the only bar in the area to do so.
People were getting scared, and the police’s seeming inability to find any
leads on the case was not helping. The manager barely suppressed a snort at
that thought. Somehow he doubted that if it were anyone other than gay men were
being targeted, the city would be in an uproar to catch the monster behind the
attacks. But since it was gay men being attacked, and in an area notorious for
the ‘sinful’ activities that took place at night, no one at the police station
appeared to care very much. Even the press was taking a pass on the matter,
regulating the story to small excerpts all but lost amid other more noteworthy
news.
The second reason was the man himself. The young man was simply gorgeous. Kei
was not about to let him wander off and be snapped up by some other club in
the area. The older man could pretty much guarantee that once word of mouth
of Red’s presence got out, the bar would be full of eager men hoping to catch
a glimpse, and more, of the young man. It was not often that someone so exotic
and breathtaking wanted to wait tables at a place like Bacchus, they could most
often find better employment elsewhere. Not even the red head’s standoffish
nature could detract from his appeal. If anything, Kei was willing to bet it
would drive the customers crazy. Nothing was more desirous than something beautiful
that was clearly out of reach. “I’m glad to see that you’re figuring out
how this place works so fast. We’ll have you stationed near the bar tonight,
just a few tables at first, to make sure you don’t get swamped your first
night. Any problems, just let Mickey, that’s the bartender, know and he’ll
take care of things. The customers tend to be a bit friendly, but if things
get out of hand, Mickey will know what to do. ” Kei’s eyes roamed the red
head’s body as he was talking, taking in how the clinging shirt and jeans
revealed firm muscles. Something about the younger man’s physique and stance
told him that here was one employee who would probably be able to handle himself.
Backing away from the computer terminal, Aya turned to face the stocky man.
“I can take care of myself. I know what I’m getting myself into here, you
don’t need to worry about me.” Seeing the older man nod and head back into
the office, a small part of Aya’s mind couldn’t help but to needle him.
“At least you hope you can….”