Ran coughed lightly as Aya brought in a tray. His sister shook her head at him, her plum pigtails swaying.
“You should have stayed in bed when I told you too.” She spoke with motherly concern, which caused Ran to let a small smile pass threw his icy facade. She was so kind hearted and carefree, it leveled out for his coldness. His sister set the tray on the bed while he weakly sat up.
It was about one year since the last confrontation with Schwarz. That was the last time Weiss had ever seen or heard of their despised enemies. They still worked for Kritiker, but usually as bodyguards for important political figures. Silent body guards of course. They worked in the shadows and took out threats before the official guards were done taking their morning piss. It slightly disgusted them, that their once glorious group was reduced to such a thing, but they were glad of the absence of blood shed.
And about two weeks ago, Ran had come down with a bad cold. He had been out all night guarding a peace activist, out in the snow and rain. The others were needed for a raid on a drug lord. He had come back slopping wet, shaking in his clothes. His three partners had rushed to his aid. Even though he loathed admitting it, they had become a close family-like unit. Ran had ignored it for the first week, and it worked itself in a dreadful flu. He was sicklier looking that usual, as Yohji had put it before Ken had swatted him up-side the head. Ken had actually scheduled him a doctor’s appointment, and they were going back to take a blood test later that day.
“Ken will be here in about an hour.” Aya informed him lightly, arranging his pillows. He glared slightly and she rolled her plum eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.” She lightly swatted him on the arm before crossing her arms across her abdomen. “Sakura and I are going to be minding the shop while you’re at the doctor’s office.” Ran grunted lowly in agreement as he tentatively sipped at his soup. As much as he loved his dear sister, her cooking skills were less than phenomenal.
“It doesn’t taste like rubber.” He noted dully. Aya let out an out-raged squawk, shoving him. Ran began hacking and coughing and she instantly regretted it. When he recovered from his fit, she peered at him worriedly from behind a few lose strands of plum hair.
“I hope they find something…” She trailed off and placed a hand on her older brother’s forehead. He was burning hot, hotter than the crackling red of his hair. Aya shook her head and slowly walked from the room. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to check on you.” She rolled her eyes at the grunt she received in return.
She walked down stairs and found Sakura just coming in the door. Sakura had graduated from high school that year and worked at the flower shop when she wasn’t at college courses.
“How is he?” The brunette asked worriedly.
“Same as yesterday. Cranky and sick.” Aya rolled her eyes nonchalantly, but her friend could tell she was worried. Sakura looked around and stole a quick kiss from her girlfriend’s lips.
“Don’t worry.” She said breathlessly, before grinning. Aya rolled her eyes again and headed for the kitchen.
In the flower shop, Ken had just left, leaving Omi and Yohji. It was a slow day for once, for there was a fair in town and most of the high school girls went there. Omi was humming lightly to himself as he arranged some baby’s breath when he felt strong arms wrap round his slender waist from behind. He sucked in his breath sharply and elbowed Yohji in the gut lightly.
“Not in the shop.” He hissed lightly.
“Oh, nobodies here Omittchi.” The older blonde replied as he planted kisses on the other’s neck.
Somebody sure as hell will be in a few moments, Balinese. All Yohji received from the voice was the fleeting image of simmering orange fire silk and a sadistic smirk on pale flower petal lips.
Just as promised, as soon as he looked up, two people walked into the flower shop. Schuldich and Farfarello walked in.
“Fuck!” Yohji spun around, grabbing some wire from his watch and pulling it in a threatening manner.
“Is this how you treat all your customers?” Farfarello asked blandly, eyeing the darts in Omi’s hand. Where the hell did those come from?
“Customers my ass!” Yohji slid into a fighting stance. Schuldich found it quit comical. Two neighborhood flower boys trying to stand up against a pair of elite assassins. All while still wearing their aprons. The German had to snort.
“All we want is some fucking flowers.” The red head rolled his emerald eyes. Omi’s fighting stance relaxed and he seemed to peer at the two Schwarz members behind his curtain of threaded caramel before shrugging his shoulders. He replaced his darts to their hiding place and put on a happy grin.
“What exactly are you looking for?” He asked, being as cheerful as possible. Schuldich was taken back and blinked at the teenager while Farfarello rolled his solitary amber sun heavenward.
“Something like that.” The Irishman pointed to a bouquet of red and black roses. “But with something orange in the center.” He pointed at Schuldich’s head. “Like his hair.”
“All right.” Omi bustled behind around the shop, grabbing roses and a pretty orange flower that almost matched Schuldich’s hair perfectly. Yohji huffed angrily as his little lover did and stormed past the two. He almost slammed the flower shop door behind him and leaned against the outside wall, pulling out his cigarettes.
Awwwww, it appears your lover doesn’t approve of that. Schuldich’s mental voice was metallic sounding, grating into Yohji’s mind.
Fuck off. The Weiss assassin shot back angrily as he lit up. He felt a feral grin in his mind before Schuldich’s grip faded. A few moments later, the two Schwarz assassins walked out the door. Schuldich lazily waved in a mocking manner over his shoulder before turning to follow Farfarello. Yohji blinked at their direction. Over that way was a hospital and a graveyard. He shook his head and walked back inside.
Omi was sitting on the counter, tugging worriedly at his bangs.
“You don’t think their back to fight us do you?” He wondered aloud.
“I don’t think so…I think they’ve had enough of this shit.” Yohji lovingly stroked Omi’s cheek and the teenager nuzzled into his hand. “Like us.” He planted a feathery kiss on the younger blonde’s forehead before returning to pruning the cattleyas and windflowers.
Ran sniffed lightly as he waited for his name to be called. He and Ken were at the doctor’s office, sitting in those over stuffed chairs. The red had was shivering in his jacket, Ken noticed. He stripped of his own and threw it at Ran, who grunted in thanks, too cold and sick to refuse it. The door opened and a middle aged nurse looked at her clipboard.
“Fujimiya Ran.” She called. Ran grunted again and tried to stand, but collapsed back into his chair. Simply walking from the parking lot had totally wasted all his energy and Ken had to help him. The soccer player threw Ran’s arm over his shoulder and wrapped a strong arm around the red head’s waist. The nurse hovered closely behind him, ready to help catch Ran if he stumbled again.
She led him into an office where she said the doctor would be shortly. Ken made a face after the door was closed.
“I hate hospitals.” He muttered looking out the window. Ran smirked slightly, hidden behind the high collar of Ken’s jacket. It smelled just like the soccer player, milk chocolate. Sweet milk chocolate, it left Ran feeling slightly refreshed. The door opened and the doctor walked in. He was tall and well built, but not bulky. He didn’t look much like a doctor ether. His wild mop of auburn hair was spiked up, like a teenager’s, keeping out of his laser blue eyes. He had a regal feel to him though, his looks sharp and to the point, intimidating. This mix of features and looks made for a astonishingly good looking man, Ran realized, then wondered where the hell that had come from. He wasn’t gay...
“I am Dr. Hikaru.” He greeted them with a wry smile, flashing brilliantly pearly teeth.
Within half an hour, a blood sample was taken after a quick check up. Ken led Ran out to the red head’s car, helping him along most of the way under the watchful gaze of a male nurse.
