He often suffered from insomnia. It’s not all that surprising to me, but I am somehow troubled by this. Once I went to his apartment to sleep when my own apartment was going to be debugged. He awoke in the middle of the night on his bed, holding his head in pain. He made no sound, however, but I woke up nonetheless. His chestnut hair fell over his face, not really showing anyone his eyes, but his teeth were clenched, expressing his pain from something. He took in rapid deep breaths through those clenched teeth, sweat dripping from his darkened skin (due to standing outside too long).

"Aya?" he noticed my waking presence and turned to face me, his soft voice whispering to me. A forced smile budded on his lips; his hands dropping to his sides from his hair as he made an effort to get up from the bed. "Are you all right?" I asked as he went to get some chilled wine to help him sleep. He waved his hand as he paced down the corridor of his apartment, assuring me in an unspoken "yes."

When he came back from his kitchen, he had a bottle of white grape wine in his hand. I shook my head no as he offered me a sip. "Care to tell me about it?" I attempted to strike up a conversation. His verdant eyes moved their gaze upon me, looking cat-like in the beige light of his room lamp. The light crawled over to his face, painting his eyes almost mystical neon green, shimmering. Turning his head, he took a silent sip of wine before answering me.

"I…" his body tensed as he paused before saying his next sentence. As his body tensed, his tattoo moved ever so slightly, the wings next to the etched crucifix moving in a weak flutter. "I dreamt about her…" he murmured quietly, the lines of his eyes proclaiming his buried emotion, "She…was covered in blood…asking me to help her. As I approached her, she pulled out a dagger and said to me, ‘It was your fault I died… Only your blood can transcend me to Heaven now!’" His eyelids then blanketed over his emerald eyes, trying to dam the forth-coming tears. A weak chuckle escaped his dark lips, as if to convince me that the nightmare didn’t bother him; trying to convince me he fancied it funny.

I must’ve incited his name then. I didn’t hear myself do it, but he turned his head towards me from his position at the door. His gaze made me feel naked in my T-shirt and shorts, sleeping in his pare futon. As he waited for me to say something, to make my point to him, his tears found release. Streaming down his cheeks in silver belts they came. I made a slight sound of surprise, attempting to get up form under the futons. One hand came up, signaling for me to stay as I was as the twin of it covered his face. He chuckled (God that chuckle hurt), laughing at himself and his tears. The bottle lay unharmed on the ground.

"Sleep on my bed," he murmured through choked sobs. He swallowed right after the sentence, almost as if to swallow down the pain and the sorrow. I shook my head, no. Lifting his head, he looked at me with those cat-like eyes, the lines under them heavy with the emotion weighing them down.

"Why, Aya?" he whispered hoarsely, "Why her? Why couldn’t I help her?" Those eerie green eyes blinked, fighting himself for showing his emotions in front of me. "Why?" he whispered once again. But this time it wasn’t to me, but to him. It’s been so long, and he still couldn’t say her name.

"Youji…" I was finally able to tear myself from the futon on the ground. I walked over to him at the door where he stood motionless. His green eyes glanced up at me, its haunting glow drowned a bit by his tears. "Sorry," he chuckled, wiping his eyes; "You must be bored out of your mind." His bare feet padded across the tiled floors to his bed, and he lain down upon his pillows. "Go back to sleep," he whispered, his heavy lids blanketing his emerald eyes. But sleep did not come upon him. For a while, he just laid there, the lights of the streets running over him through the window.

I then remembered the lullaby I used to sing to Aya-chan when she was younger. It always worked with her, but I didn’t know about him. I didn’t know if it were because I was losing sleep or if I was just plainly delirious, but I had decided to sing one to him. I made one up as I went…

My hand lifted then, and I ran my fingers through the loose curls that jeweled his hair. Those curls made him look even less Japanese with his green eyes. I sighed and ran my hand, palm and all, through the thickness of the hair. His skin felt cold, so cold to the touch. The man stirred slightly in his sleep, and I heard him mutter a name, "A…"

Was that name hers or mine? I watched him sleep then, much like how he did when I first joined Weiss. His face was peaceful, as if he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time.

********************

Aya shut off the horribly annoying classical music as he put away the first aid kit. He watched Youji’s sleeping form with worry. The rise and fall of Youji’s breaths seemed to resonance with the ticking of his Felix Cat clock outside, but the latter was drowning out the breaths.

"Why…?" Aya whispered, his sudden voice distorting the tick of the clock. His lily-white lifted to touch the hand that lay at the side of the immobile man lying there. The skin felt colder than usual due to the loss of blood. Youji’s cheeks were devoid of it usual coloring as well. The youth with brown hair didn’t lose enough blood for him to go to the hospital, but enough for him to be rendered unconscious for some time. "Just like Sleeping Beauty," Aya breathed, his voice and the throbbing of the clock creating a cacophony, "You think your prince is either dead or with another woman… So you go breaking into the Doors of Death yourself…" His hand ran through Youji’s semi-dry hair, freeing the knots that were created from the water.

"I know it’s painful… But why?!" Aya’s short gasps choked out, "You think it’s not painful to lose a person?!" The voice echoed through the near empty apartment and rang inside Aya’s own ears. His violet eyes glared down at the unmoving body on the bed. "Bastard," came the heated whisper, hoarse and loud, "Selfish fuck."

********************

A strained moan came from the darkened lips then, and the pale lids unveiled on those verdant orbs. As if from a sudden shock, my fingers jumped back from his hand. Almost as if he were just waking up from a deep sleep, he rose from his bed, rustling the sheets in his wake. His fingers covered his face as he strained out a groan, shaking his head a bit, the anemia going into him. Taking his fingers from his face, he turned his head around and looked at his environment. It was almost like he was confused at where he was, and I just sat there, looking at him and listening to the Felix Cat clock tick the seconds away.

Finally, his eyes blinked for the first time in what seemed like hours, and he drew his knees up to connect with his elbows. The unearthly lime-colored glow flew over to me, and his lips parted slowly.

"Who are you?"

Author’s rants: Part two ended already?? That was fast… I didn’t even know how to start part tow, to say the truth… The whole fic itself was a spur of the moment fic… So I’m very sorry if it doesn’t sound all that original… But please support me, for even one second… (Please? Mew?) Flames go to youkofujima@hotmail.com. Thanks!