Work Text:
Aya set his bag down just outside his door. He stepped through then looked back to be sure he'd gotten everything that mattered. He was abandoning his bedding because it would take up too much space. He didn't want to risk another trip back here.
Presumably, some of Takatori Reiji's minions would be loyal enough to keep coming after Weiss for a while. They knew about the Koneko. That made leaving an entirely logical choice.
Well, really, it gave all four members of Weiss a plausible excuse to vanish.
If Kritiker ever found Aya and his sister, he'd claim that he'd gone to ground to avoid pursuit. He thought that they'd pretend that they didn't realize he'd been running from them, too.
Aya looked along the walkway in front of their apartments. Yohji's door was open, but Aya had heard Yohji's car leaving. He'd heard Ken's motorcycle, too. At least Ken had closed his door.
Omi was standing in his doorway, leaning his head against the frame.
Aya hesitated. "Are you...? You can't stay."
Omi turned to look at Aya. His eyes were red. There was a line on his forehead where it had been pressed against the door frame. He shrugged.
Aya wished he'd managed to walk away without saying anything because Omi was 17. Omi didn't have a life to go back to. Aya remembered how lost he'd been when everything ended, and he'd been older than Omi was now. "You shouldn't stay," he told Omi.
"They can always find me again," Omi said. "I'd like to finish school, anyway. It's a good high school."
Aya considered that then shook his head. "They're not going to let you go to university." He didn't think that finishing at a specific high school meant much without that.
Omi smiled, and Aya recognized it for the mask that Omi's smiles always had been. "I'll be all right, Aya-kun. There'll be another team."
"No." Aya took three steps toward Omi before either of them realized that he was going to move. Aya stopped and took a deep breath as he groped for an excuse. "I could use help." He met Omi's eyes then looked away. "You know about my sister?"
"It's in your file." Omi's words were flat. "They'll always be able to find you, too." He gestured toward the street. "Yohji-kun and Ken-kun can disappear."
"If you help," Aya said, "I think we can make it work."
Omi's mask cracked, just a little.
"I need to move my sister," Aya said. "If we... liberate... some equipment, we can keep her in an apartment for a few weeks. Until they stop looking so hard."
Omi's lips curved just a little. "Until I can confuse the records sufficiently?"
Aya hadn't been thinking about that, but he wasn't going to admit it. "We help each other," he said, offering his hand. "I've done the suddenly on my own thing before. I can teach you the bits Kritiker didn't." He managed a smile. "Knowing how much things really cost will help. I had no idea about that." He looked up at the sky and tried to guess how long they had before dawn. The city lights made that hard. "How long do you need to pack?"
Omi hesitated. He looked past Aya at the bags Aya'd left by his door. "How much can we afford to replace?" He fidgeted. "I-- If I'm going with you, I should--" He glanced toward the Koneko. "There are things in the basement that I should dig out. Data files I hid. I was... I thought that after you all left, I'd see how much I could do to cover your tracks." He met Aya's eyes. "It still needs to be done."
"You can do the money that way," Aya acknowledged, "but I don't think that's enough to hide your school or my sister. There'll be paper records."
"Which is more time." Omi looked back into his room. "You know what we can carry. Pack for me? I'll need my school books and uniforms. Anything else..." He sighed. "Ouka's picture. Please. And I've got a couple of backup drives taped to the underside of my desk inside the wide drawer."
Aya took longer than he should have to realize that Omi thought Aya might leave Ouka's picture because of who Ouka's father had been. "She's your sister," he said. He didn't have the words to explain what that meant to him, how that part of Omi's loss paralleled Aya's own, how that made them alike in ways that Aya hadn't been willing to admit.
Aya had accepted that Omi was a Takatori. That made Reiji's crimes against Omi a deeper betrayal than his crimes against Aya's family. Aya's right hand opened and closed three times as he remembered how it had felt to cut Reiji down. "Weapons?" he asked.
Omi considered that. "I'd rather have them and not need them, but if I take them, Kritiker will look for us harder because they'll assume I'm going freelance. I could."
Aya was absolutely sure that Yohji had taken his harigane. Ken's decision on that... Well, it might have gone either way. Ken just wasn't very likely to go freelance.
If Yohji did, Aya hoped he'd be smart about it.
"Do they know what you have?" Aya would also rather have weapons and not need them than need them and not have them. "I'm taking my katana, but I also brought that with me."
Omi's eyes narrowed. "If you get that far before I'm back up here, pack all my weapons. Otherwise, I'll pick and choose. I know what I can replace easily."
Aya nodded. He waited for Omi to clear the doorway then headed into Omi's room to begin packing.
****
The best apartment they could find on such short notice was a long way from Omi's school, more than two hours and six transfers each way, so Omi ended up taking some time off. "It'll be easier to transfer to a new school if I wait out the rest of the year," he said. "Not so obvious, I mean. Nobody will expect me to pretend to be younger than I am."
Aya nodded without giving the words much attention. He was too busy trying to keep his sister alive. Kritiker had taught them all enough about treating injuries that Aya had had a much higher opinion of his own ability to care for Aya-chan than reality bore out. He didn't have as much spare time as he'd expected for cleaning the apartment or for preparing food.
Omi stepped up for that. "If I make mistakes, it won't matter too much, and I can figure it out as I go."
Aya ate what Omi prepared; neither of them died or even got sick from it. Aya also noted that the shower, kitchen, and toilet all smelled better. The walls in the living room looked brighter, cleaner.
The apartment had a single bedroom with enough room for Aya-chan, her necessities, and a bit of storage. There was a shower but no bath. Aya and Omi slept on futons in the living room and took turns checking on Aya-chan during the night. During the day, the folded bedding went into a corner.
"We don't really need that much space, Aya-kun," Omi told him. "If we were who we say, we couldn't afford a bigger apartment. There'd be three of us on your wages. Someone would notice."
Omi told their neighbors that he and his twin sister lived with their older brother who'd left university when their parents died unexpectedly in a fire that destroyed everything they'd owned.
By the time they'd been there three days, there was gossip about the trio of orphans. All of it approved of Aya's dedication to caring for his siblings, and quite a bit of it murmured about what a tragedy it was that the young man had had to give up his future.
Aya's money was vanishing into providing things for Aya-chan. They'd stolen a lot of equipment and documentation when they took her, but she needed more than that. Almost all of Aya's time was going into learning how to span the gap between what they had and what they needed.
Omi was often there, either cleaning or just watching, while Aya worked. After a day or two, once the walls no longer showed signs of nicotine stains, he started asking questions about why certain things needed to be done and whether or not other approaches might work. When Aya started to tremble from exhaustion, Omi made him cocoa and told him lie down.
"I'll call you if anything changes," Omi promised. After the second time it happened, Omi brought his laptop into Aya-chan's room and made them a schedule. He also-- somehow-- dug up more resources explaining how to care for someone like Aya-chan.
Sharing the work made it seem more possible.
Aya made lists, and Omi did the shopping to provide what they needed for cooking and sleeping and general apartment living. Aya suspected that Omi had spent more than they'd budgeted, but when Aya objected, Omi said, "I've got money. Better sheets will last longer, and they're not a thing anyone's going to know are expensive, not with that color."
The sheets were a horrifying green that looked about to sprout mold, so Aya couldn't argue with that. At night, the color didn't matter, and the softness was a small luxury that made sleeping easier.
"I'm buying most things used," Omi said. "I can get more money. Stealing electronically is easy. I don't know what to buy for an apartment, but I can get money."
Omi no longer going to school meant that he could stay with Aya-chan while Aya went out to work. "I can do a lot from here, Aya-kun," Omi said before Aya left the apartment for a day searching for work. "I'll sit next to her while I'm online, and I'll check regularly when I'm cooking."
Aya hated needing to leave the two of them for hours at a time. He trusted Omi entirely, but caring for Aya-chan was uncomfortably intimate. Aya thought that his sister would be mortified by knowing that her brother was touching, cleaning, and moving her unconscious body.
Aya-chan had never met Omi.
"I won't tell her," Omi told Aya. "Once she wakes up, I mean." He looked a little sad. "I don't think we'll be living together then. You won't need me once it's safe to put her in a different long term care facility."
Aya didn't have the words to explain that Omi's welcome wasn't dependent on him being useful, so he put his hand on Omi's shoulder and squeezed. "She'll like you." He was sure that she would.
Omi smiled.
Aya was glad to see that it was Omi's real smile, the one with edges and elasticity, the one that looked so much older than 17. Aya hadn't ever seen it before the night they fled Kritiker. He understood enough to realize that Manx and Persia had never seen it.
If Persia hadn't been dead, Aya probably would have had to kill him for what he'd done to his nephew. It was a betrayal as deep as Reiji's refusal to pay the ransom.
Aya still hadn't decided about Manx. He doubted that Mamoru was the only too young recruit she'd trained, but she also hadn't been Mamoru's family.
He was also pretty sure that Omi didn't want Manx dead. Aya had not a single damned clue why, but he was sure he was right about that. Then again, a lot of abused children thought the abuser was better than no one at all.
Aya had had no one at all after his parents died, and he wasn't sure those kids were wrong. He'd been 18, and he still hadn't been strong enough to avoid being prey for Kritiker. Mamoru hadn't stood a chance, but Omi clearly knew that, without Kritiker, he'd have been the victim of much worse crimes.
All Aya could do about it was to make sure that Omi knew how to live without Kritiker. The child Omi had once been was beyond anyone's reach. There was only the man Omi would be.
Aya had no idea what gift he could offer that would make Omi understand how Aya felt. He hadn't given anyone anything since the night he bought Aya-chan earrings. He didn't think that Omi wanted jewelry.
And jewelry might be inappropriate. Weapons would be better. Aya knew a lot more about quality weapons than he did about jewelry.
Omi interlaced his fingers and stretched with his palms outward. "Aya-chan and I will be fine," he said. "If anyone comes in--" He shrugged. "It's not like I don't know how to get rid of the bodies."
Weiss had never had to dispose of bodies. Aya was afraid to ask how Omi had learned. "It's more likely to be the super trying to find the unauthorized pet we don't have," he said.
Omi laughed. "I'm sure I can distract him." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "He might be easier to manage if we actually did have a kitten or a tiny dog." Omi didn't sound like he was enthusiastic about the idea.
"Too much extra work," Aya said. "Also... I don't think it would be safe for Aya-chan. This equipment is--" He waved a hand to indicate the tubes and wires.
"Not a good mix." Omi nodded solemnly, but he hadn't quite lost his smile.
Aya found himself smiling back.
"I'll wear the skirt and wig when I take the trash out tonight."
Aya blinked. "We have a wig?" He didn't think they had any skirts that would fit Omi, either, but he wasn't going to question that. "Why?"
"So the neighbors remember your sister being awake and active." Omi turned to look at Aya-chan. "It'll cover things better when we move her, just like you working now helps build your new identity. I'm pretty sure I can get one of the neighbors to give 'Hitomi-chan' some cooking lessons."
Aya nodded because the logic made sense; Omi actually could be convincing in drag. It just wasn't anything that Aya would have thought to suggest. "The wig thing-- You don't have to."
"I know, Aya-kun, but it's what I'm good at, and it will help." Omi's eyes met Aya's. "It will keep me busy, too. I don't have homework or mission prep or a job."
Aya felt a pang at the idea that Omi now had nothing. "I'm sorry." He really was.
Omi shrugged. "It's for a good cause." He pursed his lips and hesitated. "And I like you. I couldn't say that about everybody else Persia introduced me to." He reddened a little.
Aya thought again about Manx bleeding out. It felt a lot like his old fantasies of killing Takatori Reiji. "I like you, too, Omi," he said. He was a little surprised that his voice sounded steady. "You've always been--" He choked on the words because none of them were right.
Reliable sounded like Aya was only thinking about how useful Omi could be. Kind was worse because Aya was fairly sure that that was a weapon that Omi wielded to deceive people who might harm him. Loyal, well, Aya and Omi had both betrayed Kritiker by vanishing. Generous fit, but Aya thought that Omi wouldn't like that Aya hadn't expected it.
Aya squeezed Omi's shoulder again. "You understand all of that better than I do," he said in a desperate effort to pull things back to practicalities.
"I can teach you." Omi's expression went flat and opaque. "If you want."
Aya didn't think that that expression meant that Omi was displeased; it was just how Omi focused when a mission was riskier than usual and no outsiders could see him. He sighed because it was a generous offer, not one he wanted but also not one he could refuse. "Eventually," he said at last. "If we ever do need more money, I'd rather have something to fall back on that doesn't require my katana."
Aya-chan's long term care was going to be expensive. There was no way around that.
And Aya couldn't reject Omi's gift, not when that meant rejecting everything Omi knew how to be. If anyone else had offered, Aya realized suddenly, he'd have refused. He'd have said something rude about not wanting to go further into Hell.
"Maybe we can all three leave Japan," Aya said. "Freelance whatever would be easier if we're not so near Kritiker, and there might be different treatments for Aya-chan." He hesitated. "If you want." It wouldn't be Hell, not with Omi there to help.
Omi smiled. "I'd like that."