"Heh, poor Youji," Ken chuckled, laying change back into the cash register drawer as their first customer of the morning--a schoolgirl doubtless now late for class--left the shop. He sensed the raised eyebrow across the room without looking up. "That delivery order was for him," he explained.
"Ah."
Ken shut the register and watched Aya pull a bouquet of roses from the refrigerator. "Valentine's Day is a lot more work for him the last three years," Ken said, leaning down to punch the order slip onto the appropriate hook beneath the counter. "Since you made him swear not to keep any gifts from his admirers, he's had a lot of quick redistribution to do around this time."
There was a wry snort from the direction of the worktable. "I didn't make him promise that."
"Oh," Ken laughed. "You wanna draw the distinction between coersion and force? As I remember, he was tied to the bed, and--"
"Hmph." There was some quick and agitated crinkling of tissue paper. "I don't tell him what to say. He chose his words, then as well as any other time." Aya's face turned angrily to one side, but not quickly enough to hide a faint flush--whether of embarrassment or exasperation--from his sole observer.
Ken smiled. "True." It was also true that Aya had spent the Valentine's Day in question obviously fuming over the female attention Youji was swimming in, all but physically attacking some of Youji's more obnoxious would-be sweethearts. Ken decided to refrain from mentioning it. Contrary to Ken's teasing, Aya was right, he had not exhorted the promise. He would have contented himself to hear his and Ken's names on Youji's lips all that night, and stew in his own juices later. Youji had offered the promise himself. And--
"And I never forced him to keep it," Aya growled.
Ken clamped a hand over his mouth, swallowing air in an effort not to laugh aloud. "A-also true," he managed after a moment, slightly breathless.
"This one's finished," Aya announced. "Bring me the next batch."
Ken deposited a stack of slips on the table as Aya went to store the new arrangement. Ken picked the first two orders off the top. "We don't need to make this one, and I'll take care of the next... business won't pick up for a bit."
Aya nodded absently, then turned as he closed the refrigerated display door. "Should we have taken her money?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"Huh?"
"We're not going to make it, or deliver it."
Ken scratched his ear. Youji had told them to stop bothering last year. "Well... Youji's just gonna hafta dismantle it and put the flowers back, if we do. We'll give him the order slip, you know, thought that counts and all." Ken frowned. "He works in a flower shop, what would he do with 'em, anyway?"
Aya frowned back, then shrugged. "I don't actually care."
Ken grinned. "That's what I like about you." He stuffed the order for Youji in his pocket and went to find a stepladder. "Get the red and white tulips out for me, Aya?"
"Aa."
"The shame is," Ken said, pulling the stepladder out from behind a rack of potted miniature roses and climbing up to get one of the vases atop a shelf. "Most of 'em already figured that out, and they're ordering from other stores, buying chocolate, baking cookies, knitting sweaters..." Ken rose to his tiptoes to reach for the vase. "Last year he gave me about five dozen cookies to take to soccer practice for the kids." He tottered for a second as he brought down the vase. "Guess I'm lucky I'm not popular enough to get that kind of attention. Or cute enough to make you jealous when I do--" Ken turned on the second step down to find Aya holding the stepladder steady.
Aya leaned up and kissed him, slowly. An amused smile played his lips when he drew back. "Don't fish, Ken. It's not attractive in a man."
Ken watched Aya walk back to the worktable, brown eyes creased by an embarrassed but pleased smile.
"And just for that," Aya added. "You're not allowed to keep yours, either."
All four assassins manned the last two shifts of that day. The volume of last minute orders was staggering, and the store was packed with women and girls from wall to wall as soon as schools let out.
The next day, Valentine's itself, Aya and Ken handled what last-last-minute business there was, and Omi and Youji separately performed the deliveries... from before opening-time to well after closing. This was Aya's division of labour, and the others agreed to it--although Youji bemoaned the abuse of his beloved Super Seven. As Aya put it, if Youji and Omi were going to be in the shop on Valentine's Day, they might as well close it altogether. They were more likely to suffer property damage than to sell a thing, what with the fervour of their combined fanclubs thronging in the Koneko, trying to give gifts.
The local girls had caught on to this state of affairs, so the shop was tolerable on Valentine's Day. Aya and Ken had female fans, of course, but fewer, and Ken's tended to be shy, while Aya's were generally astute enough not to bother him.
Evening brought Aya-chan from boarding school, with chocolates for all her 'brothers.'
"Happy Valentine's Day, Ran-nii, Ken-niisan!" She handed them their chocolates with a quick kiss on the cheek for each. "Youji-niisan and Omi-kun not back yet?" she asked, plunking down on a stool by the worktable as Aya resumed dismantling a display.
Ken sat down next to her and started excitedly to unwrap his present. "Don't expect them for another couple hours," he said. "Nearly twice the deliveries we had last year--ooh, coconut." Aya shot him a wryly amused look.
"Aww..." Aya-chan pouted, setting two more heart-shaped boxes on the table. "I wanted to give them these myself, but I've got to get back to school for a review session at seven-thirty."
"I'll drive you back," Aya said. "But they won't make it in time."
"We'll pass 'em on for you," Ken said, carefully reclosing his box and standing up. He glanced at the other two boxes and grinned. "You gotta stop calling Omi 'otouto,' it really gets to him."
Aya-chan giggled. "I was born two years before him! Even if he's ahead of me in school now. He'll just have to get used to it!"
Ken ruffled her hair as he passed and ducked the smack she aimed at him. "Well," he laughed. "At least with this, Youji will have one box he can keep. His sweet tooth has been killing him."
"Oh, really." Aya handed him a pot to stack.
Ken nodded. "You shoulda heard him yesterday winging about all the chocolate he was passing up, and how lonely it was for a man on Valentine's Day with no tokens of adoration, how bad for his reputation, et cetera, et cetera."
There was a pause.
"It was his idea!" Aya-chan chorused along with her brother. Aya glared as she and Ken burst out laughing.
Aya folded his arms and waited them out. Then, frowning, "Ought we to have gotten him something?"
"Huh?"
Aya-chan blinked, wiping the corners of her eyes. "What, you mean you haven't?"
"Something?" Ken repeated.
"No," Aya answered his sister.
"And you didn't last year, either?"
"No..."
Ken cocked his head at her. "Valentine's is for girls to give gifts, Aya-chan."
Aya-chan looked at them in turn, mild reproof on her face. "But he doesn't get to keep anything from the girls anymore. So that means he has nothing!" she said, as if she were answering a very silly question.
Aya frowned. "And this is bad."
"Ye~s," Aya-chan said, nodding firmly.
"It's a status thing, sure," Ken said. "But he gets plenty--bushels. Just 'cause he doesn't keep 'em doesn't mean he doesn't know he's popular."
"If anything, the extra redistribution work should make it sink in more," Aya rejoined, sniffing.
Aya-chan huffed in exasperation. "That's not the point! Instead of spending Valentine's Day thinking about how many people love him, he's spending it returning everyone's feelings. Even for a good cause, that's a negative way to spend a day, don't you think?"
Ken looked at Aya. Aya frowned a little harder. "Maybe so, huh?" Ken said.
Aya-chan nodded again. "For at least a week after Valentine's, boys keep the flowers, or the little heart boxes, or cards, all around their rooms. It makes them feel good."
Aya and Ken were both glaring at their hands, now. "He has yours," Aya muttered.
She smiled. "But the ones that'll matter most are from the people who love him."
"Humph." Aya said emphatically. He and Ken turned slowly to face each other. "Well?" Aya said at length.
"She's clearly forcing our hand," Ken said.
"You're saying she leaves us no choice."
"Purely Aya-chan's consideration. None of ours."
"Right."
They turned back. "We'll do it."
Doing it proved a bit harder than foreseen.
"So we're not getting candy?" Ken looked confused.
"That's what all the women get."
"But then what on earth...?"
"Aya?"
"How about a plushie? It's something Youji-niisan could keep."
"A stuffed toy? What is a grown man going to do with a stuffed toy?"
"What's a grown man going to do with any Valentine's Day gift?" Ken returned, looking rather wistfully at a window display of red plastic-wrapped boxes. "Either eat it or leave it somewhere in his room."
"I think it would be cute, 'niichan. Flowers and chocolates are already out... look, that one's adorable!"
"Wow," Ken marvelled. "It'd almost be worth it just to see where he'd hide it."
"I could not coexist with that thing," Aya said, continuing briskly on.
Aya-chan shook her head. "You two are difficult. What do you want to get him, then?"
"If we knew, we wouldn't still be in this vile place."
"If we hadn't gotten ourselves banned from the supermarket, we wouldn't'a had to brave the mall."
"Who's fault was that, Ken?"
Ken stuck out his tongue.
"Oh, hush. Well, think, then. You want something that keeps, but not cute enough that you two won't be able to live with it. Oh! There, look, what about a sweater?"
"Nn..."
"I dunno, Aya-chan. It's kinda... well, he has lotsa stuff to wear."
"That's an understatement. Besides, that's..."
"If he put on something that frumpish, he might spontaneously combust."
The three of them paused, looking at the red-and-white-clad mannequins. The corners of Aya's mouth turned up.
"It's perfect," Ken grinned, reaching for his wallet.
Ken and Aya had dropped Aya-chan off and been home for over an hour before Omi returned.
"Your heap of devotionary materials is in the kitchen," Ken said, pointing from the floor by the register where an argument with Aya over whether to declare a holiday tomorrow had landed them both.
Omi averted his eyes dramatically, smirking as he walked around them. "If that's a hint, it's not going to work. I've been riding around all day--I'm tired."
"Told you," Aya mouthed from under Ken. He made a belated effort to appear as though he were trying to get upright again.
Ken stuck his tongue out at him, then stifled a giggle as he fended Aya's fingers away from his ribs. "Not at all," he called after Omi into the kitchen. "We're ordering take-out."
"You're paying, Ken-kun," the youngest Weiß's voice floated back out. "It was your turn to cook."
Aya snorted. "You'd save money learning to cook, Ken. There must be some dish simple enough for your limited skills."
"I wouldn't dare compete with you as to who'd make a better wi--EEF." Ken flailed as Aya flipped him onto his side and made a semi-mock grab for his neck.
"Oi, oi," a deep voice interrupted from the direction of the garage stairs. Youji looked reprovingly down at the pair of them. "I'm out working hard all day and here the two of you are starting without me."
"Welcome back," Ken gasped.
"Yes," Aya said. "You can go count your winnings in the kitchen with Omi while I kill--"
There was an indignant squawk from the open kitchen doorway. "Otouto??"
Youji chuckled. "Aya-chan's at it again, eh...? Oh! Did she bring something for me?"
"Of course," Aya answered, somewhat distractedly.
"Luck-y!" Youji rejoiced, shouldering off his jacket and tossing it unsuccessfully at a chair. "Oya--" Youji grinned, catching Omi by the shoulders as he fumed out of the kitchen. "You'll give yourself wrinkles, bishounen."
Omi's distinctive cross between a glower and a pout became a touch more pronounced. "I am not her little brother! Nor am I adorable or sweet! I--shut up, Ken-kun!" He folded his arms and glared daggers at Ken, who had both hands over his mouth to stop laughing.
"Ah, you know she does it to get to ya," Youji said, patting Omi on the head--which only made him pout more. "Might be her way of comin' on to ya, come to that," he grinned, then ducked smoothly into the kitchen, letting Aya's affronted glare hit a blushing Omi instead.
Aya humphed and turned away. Glancing at Ken, he sat up, the other man following suit. Both cocked their heads slightly towards the doorway. Omi eyed them, then looked curiously towards the door.
"Wow, I made out like a bandit this year," Youji's voice came from around the corner of the doorframe. He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Let's see whom I'm disappointing, then... Makiko-chan, Kimiko-chan, Sara-chan, Nami-chan, Ken-ch..." There was a pause. "Ohh."
Ken looked at Aya. The redhead was smiling with the look of someone who has just sprung a very successful trap. Ken grinned. There was a papery crinkle, and Youji came out of the kitchen holding Ken and Aya's red crepe paper-wrapped package in both hands. He had a sort of a confused smile on his lips, and the barest tinge of pink on his cheeks beneath his sunglasses. "You guys got me something."
Ken and Aya nodded.
"Thank you," Youji said, still looking confused as he sat down in front of them on the floor.
Ken continued to grin. "You haven't opened it yet." Omi came to look eagerly over Youji's shoulder.
Youji transferred his sunglasses to the top of his head and looked narrowly at the package before raising an eyebrow at the two of them. "Should I be afraid?" He lifted the package up in front of him, regarding it carefully, turning it this way and that. He weighed it with one hand, eyes glinting with a certain childlike excitement, then pinched at one corner and nodded to himself.
"Open it!" Omi urged, one hand on Youji's shoulder.
Youji chuckled. "Alright, alright." His fingers made short work of the paper, and then he was holding a sweater up in front of him. Size VerySmall, red knit wool with thin white stripes around the cuffs and scoop-neck collar, and a big white heart on the front. Youji grinned hugely. "You little bastards," he said, turning it this way and that, and smiling wider. "Just for that, I'm going to wear it."
Aya blinked. Ken said, "What?"
"You heard me," Youji said, already pulling one arm through a sleeve. He was blushing a bit more obviously by the time he'd gotten it on, but his eyes were sparkling with pleasure and mischief. "Fits nice," he said smoothing it down over his waist. "I love it. I'm never gonna take it off."
"You're kidding," Ken said.
"Mmmmmno," Youji purred, kneeling up to wrap his arms around Ken's neck. "Thank you so much for my Valentine's gift. Only..." He released Ken and turned to Aya, pouting slightly.
"Here," Aya snorted. He pulled a tiny, golden Godiva bag out of his pocket.
Youji grabbed it excitedly, planting an enthusiastic kiss on Aya's cheek. "That's what I'm talking about!" he cried happily. "You guys are so good to me."
Aya shrugged. "We have our reasons."
"Ulterior motives, he means," Ken said.
"It works," Youji said, occupied with the ribbon closing the bag. "'Course, you know..." he started. "Workin' the dates this way's supposta mean I'm the man and you two're my girlfriends."
Omi was experienced enough to dodge out of the way before the floor by the counter turned into an impromptu rugby match.
* * *
Every year when Youji's birthday approached, Omi indulged him with the traditional, "Ah, Youji-kun, your birthday's coming up!" A giggle. "You were born on Girls' Day?"
And Youji would strike a pose, declaring, "Of course! And do you know why?" Then he and Omi would lean conspiratorially together, Youji would lower his sunglasses on his nose, raise his eyebrows suggestively and say, "Because I'm god's gift to women!"
Omi would giggle, Ken would roll his eyes and laugh, and Aya would glare at something and plot revenge involving the elaborate use of quilted rope.
This year the lines were spoken, the revenge fully planned, and then a four-person mission was announced; absolutely no excuses to be accepted. Youji was sent out on reconnaissance, Omi had computers to hack from home, Ken and Aya had two separate organizations to infiltrate and targets to assassinate.
Three hours after Ken and Aya returned, more or less on schedule, Youji stumbled down the steps from the alley into the basement and clapped a micro-cassette onto Omi's desk. "What you need's on here, I think," he said, and continued unsteadily towards the spiral staircase.
"Youji-kun?" Omi started up from his computer, worried. "You alri--"
"Fine," Youji waved a hand at him, leaning heavily on the railing as he dragged himself up the stairs. "You finish that. I sleep."
"But Youji-kun, your birthday party?"
Youji looked mournfully back at him. "Can't. Gotta go upstairs and die."
"Cake?"
"Breakfast?"
Omi sighed and sat back down. "Okay... Uh, can you get up by yourself?"
"Mmmmhmmmm..." Youji said slowly. "Yes... Or if I fall asleep on the stairs you can just kick me on your way up."
Upstairs, Aya was on the verge of leaving to find Youji when the door to their room opened and Youji fell into his arms.
"What happened?!"
"Some asshole slipped me a mickey," Youji moaned, going boneless against him. "A very badly mixed one." His arms tight around Aya to keep from falling, he looked blearily at Ken, who had started up from his seat on the bed. "Turn down the bed and get in," he commanded. "Nnh... wait," he started unbuttoning his shirt. "Gimme something old to wear, first."
"Youji, don't you need--"
"Do what I say or die." Youji sounded less than imperious as he pushed his face into Aya's neck, but Ken obeyed him anyhow. Youji took a deep breath and pulled away from Aya, already shrugging off his shirt. "You." He gestured at the redhead with his free hand. "Undressed and in bed. Thank you," he accepted a battered old t-shirt of Aya's from Ken. "You too," he said from inside it, already peeling off his pants.
"But, Youji..."
"Already treated myself on location, all I can do is sleep it off, go, I said, both of you." Youji stepped out of his pants, leaving them in a heap on the floor, then hitting the lights before trudging over to the bed. Ken lifted the covers and Youji climbed over him and wrapped himself around Aya, making small whimpers of contentment as Ken wrapped hismelf around him in turn, and Aya turned to put his arm around them both.
"I hate today," Youji whined, nuzzling Aya's chest. Ken's hand slipped between them to rub his stomach as Aya's leg slid over his, hooking Ken's and locking the three of them more closely together. "Mmmm..." Youji wiggled slightly between them, butting his head up softly against Aya's chin. "Then again, could be worse. Mmph." He sighed, relaxing completely. "I love you both. Don't move or I'll bite you."
Aya snorted and ran his fingers into Youji's hair, massaging his scalp. "You realize you're throwing off our plans for your birthday."
An incoherent groan of pleasure from Youji.
"Of course we'll just postpone them," Ken said.
"Nn... don't take advantage of me in my sleep," Youji muttered. "I wake up tired, I kill you."
"I'll protect you from Aya."
"I was talkin' ta you."
Ken laughed. "Go to sleep, stupid."
No answer.
"Wow, he's out."
No answer.
"Aw, geez..."
So nothing much had happened for Youji's birthday, although they did eat the cake--chocolate, chocolate-frosted with orange jam filling--at breakfast. Or rather, Omi tasted it, Aya looked at it and tried not to retch, and Ken and Youji devoured it in the space of fifteen minutes. Much to Aya's further horror.
In addition to the quilted rope, Youji got a new set of lockpicks from Omi, a set of tires and a tune-up for Seven from Aya and Ken respectively. His birthday, at least, was easy to buy for. If there was one material possession Youji took seriously, it was his car.
* * *
"I know I should be happy we get the extra business. I know! But DAMN it, I hate White Day!" Ken fumed as Omi entered the back room. Ken was up to his elbows in cut flowers, discarded stems, baby's breath, foil paper and delivery orders.
"I know," Omi said sympathetically, patting Ken's back as he went to collect a boxful of plastic vases. "Be glad at least you're not working the front anymore."
Ken shuddered. "Yeah, true enough. I did my time today, though."
White Day was an affair, of course, of less sheer volume than Valentine's. Women on February 14th seemed to buy for every male out along the six degrees of separation; from their close relatives to friends and coworkers, and in passing, oh yes, their romantic interests. The March 14th White Day had never been quite as widely popular for one, and for two, men typically reciprocated only one of the gifts they'd received the prior month.
However, the feminine-roth-induced male panic for White Day, at least around the Koneko, started a week before the fact, and actually managed to be more infuriating than the holiday preceding. Right down to the wire--closing time on March 14th--the store was filled with milling, fear-stricken men, from school age on up. And unlike their female counterparts, the male shoppers had no idea what they wanted. Was this arrangement alright? Would she like this? He didn't have enough money, but did it look cheap? Would the Koneko really deliver on time? How about that one, with that one, and... oh, maybe flowers weren't right after all. Without even the ulterior motive of basking in the four florists' attentions, these male customers could be more clingy, indecisive and annoying than a month's-worth of the shop's female after-school crowd.
"We're almost done, Ken-kun," Omi said encouragingly. "Then tomorrow's Friday, and business should be slow."
"Yeah," Ken sighed. "Between the pair of candy company holidays, we oughtto've pulled ourselves outta the red, at least, right?"
Omi smiled. "Should be." His smile turned shifty. "Hey, Ken-kun... Take a look in the back right side of the bottom shelf."
"Huh?" Ken shook a strand of decorative vine off his right arm and went over to look. He had to push one arrangement aside to see. "Mmm," he nodded approvingly. "It's a nice one." He didn't see Omi's expression behind him turn rather malicious.
"Read the card."
Ken reached in and squinted at the card. Omi's neat cursive read,
"For Aya-chan,
my cute little friend.
Good luck with the rest
of sixth grade.
~Your Uncle Omi"
Ken turned around with a pained expression. "You've gotta be kidding." Omi grinned unrepentantly back. Ken frowned. "She's a senior, Omi, that's a bit much."
"Huh. Now I'm a college student it's hard to keep all those lowerclassmen straight," Omi said airily.
"Yeah, right," Ken said, shaking his head as he turned back to the mess on the worktable. "Can't believe I'm seeing this," he muttered.
"Did you say something?" Omi asked from the door.
"No, no..."
Youji arrived to pick up the next batch of deliveries not long after. Ken gave him Omi's arrangement last, pointing significantly at the card. "I'm not sure if this one is gonna blow up, or what."
Youji flipped the card open as he took the flowers under his arm, then snorted and shook his head. "Poor Omi." At Ken's bewildered look, Youji shook his head again, grinning. "Never mind."
Ken shrugged. "This should be it for you," he said, wiping his forehead with one rather dirty sleeve. "I think Aya'll be able to take everything that's left when he gets back."
Youji nodded. "I'll see you tonight then."
It was almost three hours later and well into the evening when Youji arrived at Aya-chan's boarding house. It was against regulations to have male visitors after dark, even family, which Youji had been identified as. Luckily, Youji had a talent for bending regulations enforced by women. Of any age.
He found Aya-chan busy at her computer, her door ajar.
"Delivery for Fujimiya Aya-chan," he said, knocking.
"Youji-niisan!" Aya-chan bustled him into the room and into her chair. She pulled up a stool from her vanity, sat down and held out her arms excitedly. "What've you got there for me?"
"From Omi," Youji said, handing it over.
"They're lovely," Aya-chan said. She smiled at Youji. "Now I feel a little bad for my gift."
Youji balked as he caught sight of the card, which was facing him, and snatched it. "Nah," he said, stuffing it into his pocket.
"What was that?"
"Dead leaf," he said smoothly. "It was ruining the arrangement."
Aya-chan stood, smiling happily as she admired the bouquet from one side and then the other. "I've got a vase in my closet somewhere, Ran-nii made me Ikebana for my last birthday. Hold it for me?"
Youji accepted the flowers as she went to rummage through her closet. He eyed them wryly. They looked nice, Omi was no slouch in the floral arena. But in flower language the arrangement read "elegant revenge." Which it certainly would not have been, with the card. Youji shook his head, smiling indulgently. "Kids," he murmured.
"Found it!" Aya-chan collected her flowers, putting them in a tall blue glass vase. "Gotta get water, I'll be right back."
Youji nodded and made himself comfortable to wait. He wasn't surprised to find Aya-chan's room scattered with what had to be White Day presents. Hopefully in large part from girlfriends, or her brother might have a fit. Youji shifted uneasily. Her brother might be having a fit tonight anyhow, but more along the lines of hysterical laughter.
"What's wrong?" Aya-chan had returned, crossed to put the bouquet in her window. "You're worried."
"Eh? Nothin'."
"Hmm." She sat back down in front of him and planted her face on her hands, smiling widely.
"Oh, no fair," Youji grinned.
"Spill," she said.
Youji shrugged. "Nothin'. Heh, and really, I shouldn't tell you, since you're their co-conspirator."
"Huh?" She blinked, then laughed. "Ohhh. This is about Valentine's Day?"
"You should be ashamed of yourself, encouraging those two."
She giggled. "You wore it."
"I'm gonna keep wearing it around the shop till it hits 80," Youji said. "That'll show 'em. Aya's already fixing to burn it, but I'm not gonna let 'im."
Aya-chan held out her hands. "They can't really object. I think it's very cute, myself."
"Well, you got me in trouble with it," Youji said seriously.
"You don't have a prank to pull for White Day?"
"Oh, I've got something," Youji sighed. "The question is whether to give it." The girl's eyebrows lifted. "I spent almost a whole month wondering about it. I kept trying to think of something to top their gift." Aya-chan nodded, looking fearful. "I had all sorts of ideas. First it was gonna be matching t-shirts with their names printed in big letters on the front.
"Then it was gonna be their nicknames. Then I thought, nah, they already did clothes. So what about stupid lookin' toys? Nah, too easy to stash.
"So then I'm thinking, I stuck my foot in my mouth on Valentine's Day calling them my girlfriends, I might as well go on along those lines..."
"Ohhh, dear."
Youji snorted. "Probably not what you think... Here, look."
"Hm..." Aya-chan smiled softly. "No, I don't think there's anything wrong with that..."
"Ahhhhhhhmygodyeah..." Ken let his body melt against the back of the bathtub, sinking up to his chin in the hot water. It wasn't right to be this tired on a weeknight. It was bothering him that he wanted an hour-long bath, sex and sleep tonight; there wouldn't be time for all three and he was having trouble prioritizing. Well... he was already in and unlikely to move, Aya or Youji would make the other decision for him.
The apartment door swung open and shut. "Ken?"
"In here, Aya--close the door, draft." He grinned up at the redhead. "If you want a shower, you should probably use the other, I'm planning on making this a long one." Aya looked at the door and hesitated, frowning. "Unless you wanna wait," Ken added quickly. "I'd just as rather keep you."
"Better," Aya said, smiling. He let himself down on the tiles with a weary huff, leaning up against the tubside.
"We weathered another one," Ken said.
"Another pair--I always think of them as a set," Aya said.
"Mm... home free 'till Christmas."
"Youji still out on deliveries?"
"Yeah. Should be back any minute, though."
"Mmg."
"Poor Aya," Ken laughed gently. "Take your sweater off at least, give me an arm." Aya complied, setting the orange garment carefully out of harm's way atop the hamper. Underneath he wore, as usual, a sleeveless black shirt. He stretched his arms over the rim of the tub and leaned his head back, the ends of his hair trailing in the water. Ken reached over to stroke his hair, laughing apologetically as he got him wetter. "Poor Aya," he repeated. "I'll hurry up and let you in, then we can all go to bed."
"No, inertia. I'm fine here."
"Mmhmm."
"Really. Soak. If you get out, I won't move."
"Impossible," Ken sighed, sinking back again. He reached over himself to rest a hand on Aya's arm. "Mine, though."
"Aa."
Ken let his eyelids droop, a contented smile settling on his lips. They could do this, now--comfortable silence in a silly position. It was funny about the bathrooms. Now that the three of them had easy access to two, they more often crammed themselves into one.
Their closeness had been a function of time. A necessity, at first, of a relationship for which none of them had any precedent, it had simply grown instead of fading.
"You 'member, Aya, when we first moved in here?"
"Aa."
It was the culmination of a difficult phase. Following months of sparks and signals and flirtation between the three of them, Aya and Youji had finally gotten together. Ken had struggled with the disappointment of not being chosen by either of them and trying to be happy for both of them, and not managing. Only a week went by before they cornered him in the shop one night and told him it wasn't working without him, for either of them.
Then came the weeks of confusion about procedure. Who was allowed to kiss who, and when? Waiting till all three of them were present to do more than embrace. Feeling like they were cheating on each other--with each other. Wondering almost constantly whose toes they were treading on. Omi admitted later that he'd been on the point of killing them for most of it.
Sex. The first night, in Youji's room. Hesitant, awkward, and then... as if on some external cue, the little things stopped mattering and the big picture came into focus. They'd known how to move together, all three of them, instinctively. After that, things began to fall into place for them. The daily tension began to dissipate. Aya and Ken found their way easily and more and more often to Youji's room at night. But it was Youji who--
"I'll never forget how he said it," Aya said quietly.
"We're not doing it in my room anymore! I hate waking up afterwards... and you guys aren't there... From now on, it's one of your rooms! That way I can leave whenever I damn well please, but you two can't just walk out on me!"
"Terrible and wonderful at the same time, y'know, to realize he felt that way. When he comes out with stuff like that, you just wanna hold him..."
"Tightly," Aya said.
As per Youji's demand, they started alternating between Aya's and Ken's rooms. It settled on Aya's room. Day by day, Youji's and Ken's belongings migrated into Aya's room, until clothes and books were the only things Ken and Youji ever went back to their own rooms for, and the three of them basically lived in the one, tiny apartment. A new, gargantuan bed was bought.
It took them a year to decide to take down the wall between Ken's and Aya's apartments, finally giving them enough space. Youji kept his apartment downstairs for almost another half a year. It was just there in case he needed it, he said, and occasionally he would disappear down there for an hour or two, reading. Then Aya-chan woke up and Youji bequeathed his apartment to her--"A girl should have her own room! At school or not, this is home!"--and the bookshelves, and Youji, came upstairs to stay.
"Ken..."
"Hah?"
"I'm starting to freeze."
"Alright, kittens! Your Yotan is ho~me!" The apartment door flew open and Youji posed in the doorway, arms flung wide.
"Mrgh," came the collective response from the shampoo-scented, pajama-clad heap on the bed.
"Oi..." Youji frowned, nudging the door shut and rushing over. "You can't fall asleep yet! I have stuff!"
"Stuff?" Ken repeated, sitting up. Aya rolled onto his stomach, flopping over Ken's lap to look at Youji, sleepily expectant.
"Late," Aya reprimanded half-heartedly.
"Why do you have stuff?" Ken asked, seeming more awake by the moment. He looked around, trying to see behind Youji, failing to locate any promising bags or boxes.
"For White Day, silly," Youji said.
"Eh?"
Aya smiled slowly. "You were late because you ran out to get something."
"I've had this for a week and a half," Youji sniffed.
Ken looked at him askance. "Uh-oh... this is revenge, isn't it? You got us short-shorts, or... or dresses or something..."
"It crossed my mind," Youji said, reaching into his back pocket. "I got these instead."
Ken and Aya blinked at the small, velvet-lined box sitting open on Youji's palm.
"What is this crap?" Aya said at length.
Youji cleared his throat, still holding up the box, and the three rings it contained. Each was a thick band of unadorned, gleaming grey-black. "Hematite," Youji said. "Rings," he clarified. He swallowed. "I want you to try 'em out. See how you like 'em on your left hand. If they don't feel too... heavy... we'll go for the real thing."