Paradise Lost Part 5: Paradise in Reflection

Omi stared at his own reflection as he had been doing for the last ten minutes and didn't like what he saw. It wasn't because his face was marred by his healing split lip or the bruise on his temple. He was disgusted by the face because of what it stood for and who it belonged to. It was the face of a boy who his classmates never bother getting to know, who wasn't respected as much as his team mates, who was utterly unloved by anyone.

"You're pathetic," he told himself harshly, his usually expressive features taking on a look of uncaring like Aya's.

Omi couldn't remember what happened the night before after Aya had left, but he woke up in his own bed in his own room with a splitting headache. The clock had read 10:27 and he was already hours late to open the shop, but everyone had let him sleep. It was probably because the y felt sorry for him after all he'd been through the day before, but for a terrifying moment, he wondered if it had something to do with his experience with Aya last night... His failure... But that wasn't likely. It wasn't the sort of thing Aya would ever bring up.

Omi had pulled on some clothes, grabbed his work apron with his name tag still pinned to it, and dashed to the bathroom where he showered quickly, trying not to think too deeply about anything. He was starting to blow dry his hair when his own reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror caught his eye in a new way and he wondered at himself as he stared at the sad image.

"What's wrong with you?" Omi asked his own reflection. "Are you so undesirable? Your own parents left you for dead and even your lover couldn't hold his affection for more than an hour... There must be something wrong..." Omi sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he continued looking onward.

"DOOSHITE?!!" Omi struck the mirror with his fist and he felt tears burn his eyes and brim at the bottom of his eyelids. "Oh, now you're crying...!" he chided himself in a hushed whisper, "At least you're good at *something*... Why don't you be a man? No wonder I disappointed Aya-kun..."

Omi rubbed his eyes briefly with the back of his wrist and took a deep breath before climbing the spiraling stairs to the flower shop.

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Star jasmine was the special of the day, and the dizzying sweet smell wafted all down the city street from the florist shop as the Weiß men were hard at work setting up new displays, picking up the slack as the hardest working of them, Omi, had still not shown up.

Ken was started to get deeply worried about the boy, and wondered if he was still sleeping or if he was too upset to come downstairs. Omi hadn't seemed so bad last night after the incident with his brother, but Ken knew how sometimes it was *after* the event when you're alone with your thoughts that the real pain can kick in. Ken glanced at the clock and told himself that if his friend didn't show up in another ten minutes, he would go and check to make sure he was okay. The soccer player's eyes were unfocused with his thoughts as he fiddled with the old shop radio.

Meanwhile, Yohji was studiously tying Ken's apron strings into a huge knot. The brunette had looked serious and worried all morning, and he hoped that noticing the tangled strings would either make Ken laugh or yell at him. Either way, it would hopefully brighten Ken's mood or at least distract him. Yohji would have been doing work, but Aya stood at the only available flower-arranging table and something told him to stay away from the swordsman for the time being. Aya had the weirdest expression on his face all morning. It wasn't a blank or angry look as it usually was, but somehow... nervous? He'd been jumpy all morning and it looked as if his hair was about to stand on end at one point when Ken dropped a pot which crashed on the floor. While Ken was going for the dustpan and broom to clean up the broken pottery shards, Aya had stared at all the broken pieces as if hypnotized until the last of the shards were swept up and put away. It was unusual. And besides that, there were slight, but noticeable bags under Aya's eyes which suggested he hadn't had a wink of sleep that night and Yohji was damned if he was going to get near the swordsman when he was acting strange _and_ was low on sleep...

The static crackle of searching for a radio station suddenly gave way to the pulsing sound of music and soulful acoustic guitars. "Yosshi!" Ken exclaimed triumphantly as the station came in.

Yohji leaned over him, smiling. "Hey! I love this song turn it up!" He didn't wait, but turned up the dial himself until the shop resounded with the melody.

[Somewhere they're speaking It's already coming in Oh and it's rising at the back of your mind You never could get it Unless you were fed it Now you're here and you don't know why...]

[But under the skinned knees and the skid marks Past the places where you used to learn...]

Aya's head jerked up at the words which reminded him of his sister. He'd never heard the song before, but the meanings of the lyrics were still painfully familiar...

[You howl and listen Listen and wait for the Echoes of angels who won't return...]

As the chorus started in, Ken and Yohji sang along with the familiar words, Ken bobbing his head to the music and the pony-tailed man slamming at an imaginary guitar

[He's everything you want He's everything you need He is everything inside of you That you wish you could be He says all the right things At exactly the right time But he means nothing to you And you don't know why...]

Aya ignored the others and stared into space and thought of Omi as he heard the chorus. Wasn't Omi perfect for him like that? Wasn't he everything he needed and wished he could be like? He loved the boy's company for that exact ability to say "all the right things at exactly the right time"... So why did it seem so wrong last night when the young man had confessed his love? Aya wished they would turn the song off and was had just resolving himself to ignore the words, when his eyes caught the motion of Omi stepping through the door, the boy's eyes never lifting from the floor, as the next verse began.

[You're waiting for someone To put you together You're waiting for someone to push you away... There's always another wound to discover There's always something more you wish he'd say]

[He is everything you want He is everything you need...]

Ken and Yohji stopped singing the chorus this time as they spotted Omi entering the room. The boy didn't look up, but shuffled across the floor in a beeline for the pruning shears which he began to use on the roses without a word to anyone. He was wearing his baseball cap forwards and the bill cast a shadow over his face, concealing his usually twinkling eyes.

[But you'll just sit tight And watch it unwind It's only what you're asking for And you'll be just fine With all of your time It's only what you're waiting for...]

Omi set down the shears for a moment and went for some cellophane. As he reached across the table his eyes met with Aya's for a moment and they were both trapped in each other's awkward gaze all through the last stanza.

[I am everything you want! I am everything you need! I am everything inside of you That you wish you could be! I say all the right things At exactly the right time But I mean nothing to you And I don't know... why]

Omi's azure eyes burned into Aya's as if his heart was singing the words directly to him, but Aya told himself he was just over-tired and imagining things. Tsukiyono Omi blushed furiously and turned away, nearly cutting himself as he fumbled with the safety on the shears. They both whirled around and turned their backs on each other in embarrassment at the same second and the song faded thankfully into silence. The gesture had not gone unnoticed and Yohji raised a speculative and curious eyebrow.

Ken turned the radio off and stood over to the rose bushes, "Ohayo, Omi-kun..."

"Hi, Ken," Omi said softly without looking up.

There was a brief silence and Ken immediately cut in with, "Look, Omi... I don't claim to know what you're going through right now, but I want you to know I'm sorry about what happened to your brother and that we're all here for you." Ken's soft brown eyes were warm with concern and Omi smiled a little for the first time all day. he thought to himself.

"I really appreciate it," Omi replied, his words unusually formal, "But that's not necessary. I don't want to bring the rest of you down with my problems."

Ken shook his head emphatically. "Oh, no!" he insisted earnestly, "That's what friends are for, Omi! We're here to stand by each other and help each other out no matter how bad things get. It's the *least* we can do..."

Across the room, Aya cringed.

Omi lowered his head again so they couldn't see his eyes and sniffed.

An awkward silence prevailed in the shop as Omi tried to hold back his pain, Ken was confused at his failed attempt to be supportive, and Aya burned with self-loathing. It was Yohji who cut the silence with his playful, charismatic voice. "Oi, Omi! Some lady down on Hunter Boulevard wanted this bouquet for her baby shower," he waved the handsomely-crafted bundle of pink and white flowers over his head carelessly, "Why doncha take your bike and deliver these for us before her water breaks?" He winked a sapphire eye and put on his most charming smile. The atmosphere lightened by default. "Go ahead and take your time returning if you just wanna relax for a while on the way back. We got everything under control here. Ne, guys?"

Ken nodded in agreement and Aya said nothing, but Omi smiled wholeheartedly for the first time all morning. Yohji was definitely wise beyond his years when it came to awkward social situations and whether the man fully understood what was going on or not, Omi was grateful for the words and the excuse to go out for a while.

"Sure," Omi said, taking the bouquet, "I'll see you guys later."

"Ja!" came the response and glass door's welcome bells tinkled as Omi opened it. He threw one last longing look into the shop before he left and his gaze was met by Aya's somber expression. They broke eye contact at the same time, and Omi stepped out onto the sidewalk.

It was a beautiful day which seemed to only mock his sad mood. The painfully bright sunshine hurt his eyes and found himself wishing for a dark and overcast day to better reflect his thoughts. Omi was reaching for his helmet and was about to swing a leg over the seat of his motorcycle when he realized he'd rather walk. He wasn't in the mood to drive and was worried about being too distracted, anyway. If the weather insisted on being nice, he may as well walk the short distance and give it a chance to make him feel better, he figured.

He began to walk, holding the "It's a girl!" bouquet carefully and let himself get lost in his thoughts once again. He felt like a fool for having said anything last night. He never should have taken Aya's hand or kissed him in the kitchen in the first place... Omi's thoughts trailed from his problems to the sweet memory of the love they had shared and his pain faded to nothing. Aya's words, his touch, his eyes had been... "Perfection..." Omi whispered. The boy had never been so exultantly happy as he had in that sweet moment with Aya. They had talked, held each other... It seemed they had started on a path to heal their broken hearts... But Omi's moment of glory had ended as abruptly as it had begun and left him lower than ever before. Despite the ecstatic paradise he had known for a few brief moments the night before, Omi wished he could take it back now. He would rather go back to being a secret admirer, content to love Aya from a distance... Anything was better than to actually touch that impossible dream, say the wrong thing and have it all taken away... Whoever said, "It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" was a fool. He would gladly go back to unrequited, but unrefused love.

*The worst part is,* Omi thought to himself, *I *know* this is somehow my fault. Aya was fine before I told him I loved him. I could see it in his eyes... Something was there. I thought... For a while he seemed as in love as...? I'm just fooling myself. He must not have ever thought of me that way. But then why did he bother talking to me, let me kiss him, lead me to his room...? Is he so cruel he would lead me on for fun? Was he just trying to get some skin?*

Omi closed his eyes tightly, upset by the thought of Aya using him, then put the thought out of his mind. Aya certainly was not the type who would seduce a teammate like that because of some lustful whim, and although he was cold sometimes on the outside, Omi could see and loved the person within, who could never be so cruel as to play with Omi as a joke. Then why?

When Omi had started crying, Aya had become silent. When Omi held him, Aya pulled away. When Omi told him how he loved him... Aya had... told him to leave. Omi's mental high from the memory of Aya's sweet embrace melted into nothingness as the memory of his rejection returned and Omi felt the twisting lump in his throat return. Rejected... Turned away... Again... {You're Dad says he won't pay!} {You got some cold parents there, kid} {Why don't you give up?}

Omi turned his face to the sun as if asking someone above for the answers.

{Don't misunderstand me} {Just leave}

It had been Aya's way of saying, "I don't love you..."

Omi put his arms around himself and dropped his face from the sky to the asphalt. "It hurts, Aya... Your words burn me like nothing else when you tell me you don't care about me... But... Aya-kun, no matter what you say, no matter how you try to turn me away, or how I try to believe you... I can't stop... can't stop loving you, A...ya-...kun..." Omi battled with his foolish tears and won, then realized he was nearly crushing the stems of the flowers in his clenched fist. "Baka..." he whispered to himself.

Omi delivered the flowers uneventfully and decided to relax in the park for a while before going back to the shop and facing Aya again. The warm sun shining on his face went ignored as he walked and when he finally got to the park in the town square, there was hardly anyone else there. Omi flopped himself down under the shade of a sprawling willow tree and sighed. He wished he'd brought his sketch book. He loved people-watching and capturing the beauty of everyday life in the city with quick, angular sketches to look through later. Omi had already lost a lifetime of memories and he wanted to write and draw everything he saw and lived to make sure it would never happen again.

As Omi let the complete ordinariness of the scene lull him into a state of complacency if not happiness, he took in the surroundings. An elderly man was sitting on a bench across the walkway and reading the paper and a pair of young lovers was talking quietly together as they walked past him, walking their dog. The sun sparkled gayly of every ripple and angle of the fountain in the center of the park and Omi was suddenly struck by the wafting smell of... chocolate? Reminded suddenly of not having eaten anything in the last 24 hours, Omi's stomach groaned in protest at the probably-imagined smell which was carried to him on the wind.

Omi looked toward the source of the scent and saw, to his surprise, what appeared to be a thin, dark-haired young man holding a plate of chocolate birthday cake in one hand, while the other hand thrust deep into the cake. He flung the fistful of pastry outward, frosting and all, into the air and the crumbs scattered to the pidgeons at his feet which pecked the food up appreciatively.

The young assassin couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in curiosity and smile slightly at the odd spectacle and watched as the fair-skinned boy continued to toss cake to the birds with his bare hands. Even from that distance, Omi could make out the boy's lips moving as he was speaking to the birds he was feeding softly. Omi smiled fully, the bizarre spectacle distracting him for the moment from his melancholy thoughts as his curiousity got the best of him. He was just starting to stride towards the stranger to ask what he was doing, when he suddenly heard the young man's cry of pain. "Augk!" the boy choked out in agony and dropped to the ground, clutching at his chest and struggling for breath.

Omi broke into a sprint and ran towards the fallen figure, already calling, "Are you all right?!" as he ran.

...

When Nagi opened his eyes after he collapsed, Omi's concerned face was the first thing he saw.

[Part 6]

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