I'm watching him again out of the corner of the shop. He's trying to convince one of those schoolgirls to buy a bouquet of violets for her mother's birthday, his ever present smile on his face.

How I know it's for her mother's birthday? Because she manages to remind him that every few seconds since she started ogling him. I also know those white Roses an hour ago were for a very good friend; the Gentians for a new apartment; the daisies for a secret love--I put the emphasis on secret...Gods, how I hate those schoolgirls flirting with him.

A few minutes later, three girls try to get at once his attention. They aren´t really interested in buying something; their primary attention is to get him flustered. His blush is indeed very adorable. I have to admit *that* much. He looks so young and vulnerable with his cheeks all red and his clumsy attempts at being polite. His smile never ceases, though I'm sure this must be hell for him.

In the past year I've learned two things concerning him. First, that there are masks and *masks*.

I figured out that my mask was the easier to recognise. Stoic face, cold eyes, harsh words, and one hell of a deathglare. Yes, I know that I have a deathglare and I'm somehow even proud of it. One look with it, and people stop asking me silly questions I'm not willing to answer. Beneath all this coldness though, I'm actually a very gentle and warm person. My sister could assure you that, if she were awake, but she isn't and that's why I am, well... like I am.

His mask on the other hand is much more difficult to look through. Why? Very easy, because you don't know he wears one. You are left believing that all those smiles and beams are for real. The way he chats with those girls, proposing some accurate flowers for a different occasion. The way he smiles at them even though they are grating on his nerves, badly. If you hear his sunny laughter, you think he must be one hell of a happy, gentle person. Just your good old boy next door, as he would say. Just your cute and clumsy little soccer player, as I would said on my part.

I didn't know it was a mask until he had to kill his best friend and afterwards I looked into his face when he thought no one would see him. Just thinking now of that guy leaves a feeling of pure hatred and rage. I want to storm into hell and kill that man again and again for hurting someone as pure and innocent as him.

Pure? Innocent?

Not the way you may think.

He's still an assassin, a part of Weiß, and for that he will never be pure and innocent in the way you define those words. However, even though he's tainted with blood, he still manages to make some good out of it. He still manages to care for all those people around him. Just one look into his face, makes other people feel warm all over, makes them smile with him even if all they want is to die. I mean, look at those children he teaches soccer. One day he wasn't feeling too well and told them to play without him. Their faces fell and, the next thing I knew, he was out of the door telling them that, while he might not be able to play, he could at least watch.

I´d call that pure.

And, innocent, because he still believes in a person's goodness even after his friend's betrayal. You may call it naivety, but I call it innocence. He even considered that traitor a friend after he killed him!

It hurts to see him like that, knowing that bastard is--even in death--closer to him than I´ll ever be.

A giggle interrupts my thoughts. One of the girls looks like she's glomping him every moment. The other two watch him, worshipping him like a hero. I know he hates this attention, but still he smiles. I look closer and see him unconsciously rolling his eyes. No one notices it but me.

Ah, yes. Second thing I've learned.

If you want to know *what* he really thinks, you mustn't look into his face but into his eyes. They tell you everything, not his ever present smile, but his eyes...his beautiful chocolate eyes.

Full of passion on a mission, full of joy and laughter when he plays soccer with the children, full of pain when he thinks no one notices. But I noticed it, and I set out to ease that pain.

First of all, I had to understand all the shades of his mask... I never believed someone could have a better disguise than mine. He proved me wrong. It took me several months to interpret his gazes correctly, to know what to look for in his eyes.

What they tell me right now?

Misery. Pure and *for once* undisguised misery mixed with lots of annoyance. I'm sure he's desperately hoping for someone to come in his rescue, he's too polite to tell them to get lost. Omi´s still at school and Youji...well, he won't be up till one. There's only him and me at the moment...Ah, and a horde of stupid schoolgirls, of course. So, he's hoping for me to be his saviour. Might as well go to his rescue before I start thinking of ways to kill those fucking, stupid girls. And, believe me, I know ways to kill you can only dream of, ways to make it long and painful, ways--

Another giggle.

Ok. There's rescuing to be done.

I put on my infamous deathglare and stalk towards them. Two of them see me approaching and hastily retreat when they meet my furious glare, the third one somehow manages to glomp onto his arm. He tries to get out of her reach without being to obvious, and he fails miserably.

Perhaps she glued herself to his arm, I muse. The thought feeds my anger at those girls, I pose behind her and tap on her shoulder lightly.

She turns her head slightly, finally becoming aware of my presence. She looks into my face and pales when she realises I'm giving her one hell of a glare. She loosens her grip on him and laughs nervously.

"Um, Aya-kun....is there anything you want?", she asks timidly.

"To be honest" I say coolly, "No! But if you don't intend to buy something, get out!"

She pales even more, then runs out of the shop. When I turn around, all the other girls left too.

"Really, Aya-kun! That was a bit harsh" Ken looks at me with slightly accusingly cheeks still flushed from embarrassment, then shrugs. "Nevertheless, thank you!"

His chestnut bangs obscure his eyes, again. Hell, every time *I* talk to him, I'm not able to see his eyes properly! It is as if he doesn't want me to see something in them, and I will find out what!

Our mission is easy. Break into the lab, kill the target, and blow the whole place up so no evidences are left . We split in two groups. Youji and Omi are out to gather the data and place the bombs. Ken is with me to find and kill the target.

We're still in the basement. According to our records, the target must be behind one of the doors to our left. The light is dim, we're walking through shadows. I´d have expected more lamps here...unless...this was a trap and we--

"Aya!"

His shout interrupts my thoughts.

I whirl around just in time to see him jumping in front of me and taking a stab meant for me. He screams in pain, eyes full of surprise but also determination, and sinks to the floor. His hands clutch at a place worryingly near his heart, trying to stop the flow of blood. Gods! His shirt is already soaked. The view sends waves of pain through my own heart. I look up to see the smirking face of our target just a few feet away. How dare he hurt him!!!!!!

I unsheathe my katana and attack him immediately.

"SHI-NE!!!!!!!!" I barely recognise my own voice. That fucking bastard hurt him and now he'll pay. Hess no longer part of the mission, but part of my own wish to avenge *him*.

He tries to block my moves with his knife, but stands no chance against my katana and experience. When I'm finished with him, even I have to shudder. He's barely recognisable as our target. As I said, there are ways to make a kill slow and painful.

I turn around to see Ken lying on the floor in a growing pool of blood. I'm at his side faster than I can think, carefully taking him into my lap.

He opens his eyes slowly, tries to sit up on my lap, and lets out a strangled gasp when he fails.

"Don't move!" I say a bit more harsh than necessary, trying to conceal my growing worry. I remove his leather jacket to have a better access to the wound. Damn, the flow hasn't stop and I'm able to see that it's far too close to his heart. He chokes, blood spurting from his lips, his face already white as a sheet. Fuck! Now, *that* worries me! I rip off parts of my own shirt and wrap it around his chest to slow down the loss of blood.

"Stupid baka," I murmur. "Why did you have to jump in front of me?" I don't realise that I'm crying until a tear splashes down onto my shaking hands.

His breath is ragged as he tries to speak.

"Gomen..." he croaks, than lapses into unconsciousness.

For one agonising moment, his breath seems to stop, then it starts again. I cradle him into my arms, then stand up and run out of the building. Youji and Omi are waiting already. I can barely see their shocked faces when they take in the injured sight of our friend, I'm to wrapped up in my own thoughts.

"Fujimiya-san, I suppose?"

I lift my head, tired from waiting for news of him for hours, then nod slightly. Omi´s sleeping in Youji´s lap, but starts to awake at the nurse's words.

"Hidaka-san had incredible luck!"

"He's going to be alright?" I ask, hoping my words won't betray my feelings, feelings I am still not sure about. Feelings for him.

"Yes," she says, smiling at me. "The knife barely missed his heart, but would have killed him nevertheless if you'd come a minute later."

My heart stops at her words. She smiles again.

"Don't worry. He lost a lot of blood, but the doctors say he's going to be okay."

I sigh in relief, then look over to the others seeing similar expressions.

"You are free to visit him, in room 235. Just make sure to be quiet around him. He needs a lot of rest."

He looks so peaceful in sleep. Peaceful and innocent. One wouldn't think he's haunted by his past and present when you look at him while he's asleep.

His skin is still deathly white. It worries me, but the nurse assured me that it was normal after the immense loss of blood he suffered. His chest is heavily bandaged. I relive that agonising moment in my mind when I thought the knife had pierced his heart, when I thought he would die. The thought scares me, terrifies me, leaves me broken and bleeding with no one being able to put the pieces back together. No one except him. Right now, I wish he'd open his eyes and assure me that everything would be all right, that he wouldn't leave me.

I'm not even sure he cares for me. Sure, he treats me as a friend, but does he care for me? I mean, *really* care for me? Well, I haven't exactly been the ideal of a friend, always being cold and distant, but, somehow, I hope he's able to look past my facade as I'm able to look past his.

Well, at least most parts.

He's been unconscious for three days now, three days that have seemed like an eternity for me. Three days that I hadn't been able to look into his eyes and see the soft sparkle in them when Youji flirts with Omi. That I hadn't been able to see the glint of mischief whenever I threw those stupid girls out of the flower shop. That I hadn't been able to see his true self, hidden in those dark eyes, eyes that mirror his soul.

I would have even accepted the fact that his eyes were obscured whenever he talked to me just if he would open them!

After what seemed to be an eternity for me, he finally stirs beside me. I sit up straight and wait for another reaction.

He groans a little and opens his eyes. Those beautiful chocolate eyes are glazed over. Chestnut brown hair falls, as always, over them, blocking even more his view. He's still not really awake. I brush some of the bangs out of his face. His look becomes a slightly clearer and he tilts his head a little to the side watching me quietly.

"Aya?" His face is so pale, so unlike the soft bronze tone I'm used to. It's soaked and not revealing anything but exhaustion, but his eyes look unsure at me, probably not knowing if I'm still angry at him or not for having done something stupid. Was I angry at him? I think for a moment. The look in his eyes changes to one of relief.

"You okay?" he croaks

"Hai." My face softens. God, does he even know what he does to me? Well, he for sure scared the shit out of me, jumping in front of a weapon aimed for me. And now he's asking me if I'm all right. Baka.

"The mission...?"

"Accomplished. That bastard´s in hell by now," I say. Right next to that other bastard, I add in my mind.

"You look horrible.", he says tiredly.

"So do you" I say, smiling a little.

"Where are Youji and Omi? They okay?"

"Aa. They left about an hour ago. Guess they needed some sleep. You gave us quite a scare."

He manages to look guilty at my comment.

"And you? How long..."

"Actually, I've been here for the last three days while you've been out cold. Guess I wanted to make sure you're going to be all right."

He blinks surprised at my words.

"You care for me?"

He sounds strained and tired, like he isn't really up to talk with me right now. Probably wanting nothing more than to sleep again and forget about the fact he's in a hospital with some serious flesh-wounds that barely missed his heart, but I won't let him go that easily, not until I have talked to him. Not that I have an idea what the hell I 'm going to say, but, well...I'm sure I´d find the right words.

Finally remembering his question I say a bit exasperated, "Of course I do!"

Does he really think that I'm such a pain in the ass who only cares for his little sister lying in a coma and keeps all others at bay with his infamous deathglare? Or is it just another mask of his? A desperate attempt to conceal his real feelings towards us...especially towards me.

Well, I won't know if I don't try.

"And you?"

"What?"

"Do you care for m--"

I stop afraid of my own words, then say trying to sound nonchalantly although I don't feel like that in the least.

"Do you care for us?"

He smiles a little and closes his eyes. No! I want to see them. Just for once I want to see his beautiful eyes. I want to see if they say the same his mouth will say in a few moments. To my immense relief, he's opening them again. They mirror a myriad of emotions right now, but I'm mostly struck by the sheer determination in them.

"Honestly, there was a time when I tried to convince myself that I didn't care for you, that it would be better not to care for you ...that it would be better for all of us if we just worked together and forgot the whole thing about being friends and so. After all, who wants to be friends with a murde...an assassin? It even worked for a while. But, then...I realised that I couldn't do that. It's not in my nature not to be friends with you. You're the only people who are able to understand me...Omi, Youji, you...you're all I've got left in this fucking world. You make sure I won't trip over every goddamn flower cause I'm such a klutz sometimes. I have stopped counting the times you rushed in time to save me from getting shot, stabbed, strangled or what else. You even tried to comfort me when I...when I killed Kase."

He looks at me with shimmering chocolate eyes reflecting all the misery he must be remembering right now.

" If it weren't for you, I would have got myself killed a thousand times by now."

Was it my imagination or did he put an emphasis on *you*. My heart starts to beat faster. I know it shouldn't. After all, I'm Mr. Cold who doesn't want to get attached to anything, but... somehow I yearn for the knowledge that there might be a chance that he...

"Aya?"

I look up realising that I´d been lost in thought. He looks at me, his eyes reflecting the pain of his recent wounds, the care and friendship he holds for us and...hope?

He moves a little, probably trying to sit up and hisses in pain when the movement threatens to open up his wound again. His breathing gets harsh and he closes his eyes again to block out the pain.

"Ken? Daijoubu ka? Shall I get the doctor?"

"No, thanks. It's all right. Give me just a few seconds to adjust. It's not that bad, really!"

He opens his eyes and finally manages to get into an upright position without too much pain. The previous look is gone leaving only the stark pain the wound must inflict on him. So, his eyes are betraying his words yet again. I want to shake him. Why does he never say what bothers him? Is he afraid I might not understand that the stitches must hurt like hell?

"How's the shop?" he tries changing the topic.

"Youji and Omi are currently running it while I stay here watching you. You should have seen those girl's faces when Youji told them you wouldn't work for a while. I´d like to have seen it. It must have been priceless from what he told me."

He groans again. partly due to the thought of those annoying girls, partly due to the pain.

"Must hurt like hell!" I say, hoping to catch him off-guard.

"Yes", he hisses, then shuts his mouth as he realises what he just said.

I smirk and he looks at me confused.

"See! And why couldn't you say that immediately."

He groans. "Caught me! You know me too well. I was sure you ..."

"I wouldn't see past your mask?" I interrupt him.

He looks shocked, to say the least. Probably thought no one would ever imagine him wearing a mask.

"How...? I know you've been observing me lately..."he stocks "since I had to kill Kase, but I thought I wasn't that obvious."

I reach out and take his hand in mine.

"Your face may always smile at us, but your eyes... they showed me what you really think."

"And what do I think?" he asks timidly

"Right now, you're in deep misery and pain, because that fucking prick stabbed you. You loath yourself for what you're doing. You love those children. You hate those schoolgirls, but are far too polite to tell them to get lost. The thought of your best friend betraying you kills you inside, and you've become very fond of Youji and Omi. The thought of them as your friends makes you happy, even though they are assassins like you. When you smile at them, you mean it, not like when you smile at those girls."

I stop. I´d never have thought telling him that one day. Yes. I wished to, but I never thought...

"And you?...What do I think of you? You didn't include yourself."

His voice is barely a whisper as if he's afraid of asking me this peculiar question. His head is lowered. Damn! I can't see his eyes. How shall I answer him? Perhaps I should be honest to him. Let's just see what happens then.

"I don't know, Ken. Whenever I try to talk to you, you keep me from looking into your eyes. So I can't even tell you, if you're fond of me or not. You said, you care for *us*, but somehow I wish there could be more than care..." I trail off waiting for him to react.

I see him hesitating. Maybe I've gone too far by saying that. He sighs, obviously battling with himself. After a while he murmurs, "If I let you look into my eyes, you could tell me what I think?"

He sounds strange, unsure, but his voice holds a tinge of desperate hope for something.

"Yes, Ken...please I have to know!"

Suddenly he smiles, then locks his beautiful dark eyes with mine showing me exactly what I´d been hoping to see for such a long time now--even if I had been oblivious of my own wish until today.

I feel my lips twitch into a tender smile. I cup his face between my hands and inch closer to him until our lips are barely apart.

"...and I you," I say softly, then close the remaining space between us. The kiss confirmed all what his voice couldn't tell me for so long and his gaze tried to avoid confirming.

Yes, maybe there was a chance for us after all.