I really liked his voice. I understand that it is a strange thing to like about someone, but… I just found it to be special, more special than the other's.

Omi’s voice sounds as if he didn’t break out of puberty yet, and it’s constant whining often annoyed me. Ken’s voice was normal for someone his age, too plain however. In all of Weiss, it was Youji’s voice that really amazed me.

His voice was strange for someone his age. It sounded too deep to be a child’s, but too high to be an adult’s. It had the ability to hide everything within him: his anger, his anguish, and his sadness. All that he ever expressed in front of us was a happy-go-lucky exterior. But "the brighter the light, the darker the shadow behind it," someone had said before. The more Youji smiled, the more he is corrupting inside.

I often listened to him jabber on with something completely irrelevant to our job, letting it go in one ear and come out the other. He had noticed that I did so early on, but said nothing about it. Once I told him, "If you want to talk so much, why don’t you go talk to a wall?" He looked at me with a "taken back" look and he laughed. It was a pure sounding laugh to those whose ears are untrained, but there was a strange component to it that made it not a pure laugh. It was a fake laugh, the component was that it’s an old one, as if he had stored it into his brain to take out and use at times like these. I sat there, drinking in that hallow fullness of the laugh, looking at him as he faked a crumble to the table, still snickering in that staged snicker. He then stood up from the table and told me, "Sorry to have bored you, I will." He smiled, walking away while saying "hi" to the wall next to him on the way out from the f! lower shop, humoring me.

The next day he came in, looking a bit pale. His skinny wrists were bandaged, the smell of blood stagnant on him even though we didn’t have a mission the previous night. When asked what happened, he only smiled and said, "The walls weren’t so friendly."

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

I don’t know how long I’ve slept until the door to the room clicked and groaned open. A figure walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Am I still in this nightmare?" I mumbled through the bed sheets, turning onto my back to look at the unfamiliar ceiling. Aya sighed and set the bag in his hand onto the lamp table next to the bed. "I suppose so," he whispered, flicking the lamp on, "This is a nightmare that never ends least you die." I rolled again and stuffed my face into the puffy pillow, smothering my nose into it. "You should eat," Aya announced, pulling the bag open, "I don’t know if Japanese foods fit your taste, though." I heaved a sigh and did a semi push up to get my face off the bed. "Ken and Omi are going to come in a few minutes," Aya pronounced, drawing up a chair, "You should try and act like Youji. If not, they’ll know you’re someone else." I squinted, a bit confused at the new names. "Ken…Omi…?" I repeated the names. "Ken’s the brunette, Omi’s the blond child," Aya explained simply. I ! scratched my head and pulled at the pajamas on me. It was such a nervous habit that I gotta drop it.

Aya eyed me and sighed for some reason and stood up. "They’re coming soon, so you better change out of those. Youji doesn't go running around in pajamas," he said, shoving his hands into his back pockets, "You do know some things about Youji, don’t you?" I shook my head, my sense of fear taking over. "I don’t know much about Youji," I admitted, "Cuz he’s my cousin, and I lived in the US where he was only able to visit me every so often…" Aya sighed again and sat down once more.

"But I really admired him," I added. That seemed to be too irrelevant to the subject.

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

Now that I’ve had the chance to look at him more closely, I’ve noticed the difference between him and Youji. Although they looked identical physically, the trained eye can tell the difference by the personality under the skin. Uriel’s eyes were more loose, the lines of emotion and stress not yet troubling him. Large and innocent they were, shallow melted emerald pools that have not yet seen the evils Youji’s green eyes have. His face looked less gaunt than Youji’s, whose face was often pale and ghastly during early mornings and late nights. Uriel’s skin was less gaunt, but obviously paler than Youji’s from living in a colder climate than ours. The boy’s gotta get a tan.

The door suddenly opened, and in walked Ken and Omi, one carrying a bag full of wine and the other with two six-packs of beer.

"Youji, let’s party!!" Omi squealed, setting down the two six-packs, beaming. "We had a great sale today!" Ken joined in, "So let’s celebrate!" I sighed and shook my head.

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

Ken took out his pocketknife and flipped the bottle opener on. Omi went and helped himself to the glasses in Youji’s kitchen cabinet. Soon, the apartment was filled with Omi and Ken’s squeals and laughter. Uriel kept himself more or less silent, as did Aya.

"Here, here! Drink!" Omi shouted, shoving a tall glass into Uriel’s hands and pouring him the vodka. Uriel stared at the glass and looked over at Aya, then back at the glass. "I… Can’t drink…" Uriel muttered. ‘What??!" Omi exclaimed, his small hands nearly dropping the bottle, "You, who cherish wine like life, can’t drink?! That’s not the Youji I know!" Uriel’s heart skipped a beat and he gripped the glass tightly. "All…all right!" he stuttered, "I’ll drink it! Who’s afraid of this bit of alcohol?"

As soon as the glass was emptied, swirls began to appear in Uriel’s eyes. He grabbed for what he thought was the nearest trash bag and…

"BLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

"Good god!" Ken screeched, "You’re kidding, right?!" He took the glass and sniffed it, his mouth turning into a scowl. "Why are you joking with this, Omi! You know you can’t mix alcohol together!" Omi proceeded to whine as Aya’s voice suddenly rose from the clamor. "Why don’t you take him out to the balcony for some air?" he suggested. Ken sighed and heaved Uriel up to support him by the shoulders. "Alright, Youji," he grunted, "Can you stand?" Uriel made a small hiccup and glanced at him. "Oh, I know…" he slurred, "You’re Ken, right?! It really is you!" Ken gawked at the drunken man. "What are you babbling about?! Are you sure you’re okay?" Ken then took Uriel out the back door of the apartment to the balcony in the back.

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

The balcony was nice and spacious, I thought, for one built in a Japanese apartment. The wind whistled in the air, letting my hair take flight. I brushed the now brown strands out from my eyes as Ken said behind me, "Such a comfortable wind." I nodded in agreement and opted to lean on the steel railings for a better view of the city.

The railings of the balcony groaned and tittered suddenly, giving away under my weight on it. "Youji?!" Ken shouted from behind me as I uttered a sharp cry of alarm. An arm circled around my chest and the hand at the end grabbed my one shoulder, slamming me to the ground of the balcony with a heavy pull. I grunted the air socked out of me, as I was nearly smashed onto the ground. Aya’s hand released my shoulder and he pulled me up to my wobbling feet. "Are you okay, Youji?" Ken asked, "The railings probably rusted or something…" As I attempted to steady myself on my feet, Aya opened his mouth to speak. "Youji, you okay?" he asked, "Your color looks horrible…" My hand ran to my mouth as I gasped for breath, desperately avoiding hyperventilation. "Please…" I wheezed, phlegm and a few traces of bile clogging up my throat, "Please leave…all of you… Let me be alone for a while!" The crowd of thr! ee stared at me, Aya’s eyes full of icy frigidness while the other two looked more or less worried. "Ah-ah…" Omi sighed, picking up the bottles and shoving them into bags, "Youji’s still Youji… I thought he actually had a personality change when he said he wouldn’t drink." As soon as he said that, everyone seemed to file out of the room. "Aya, how’s your new car?" Ken asked on the way out, "The black Jaguar?" I heard Aya sigh and the door slammed shut.

I flopped myself onto the bed immediately, my brown hair cascading around my shoulders, veiling my eyes and sticking to my face with sweat. "Brown hair…not my own.

"If only I hadn’t woke up…" I whispered, falling into slumber.

"Youji! You can’t drive this fast!! You’re looking for death like this!!" I had shouted as the car sped down the highway. The car seemed to swerve all too quickly as a black Jaguar knocked into us, the driver’s jeering mouth the only visible thing in the dark. The man laughed as Youji tried to avoid him, driving faster than ever. Youji’s hands lost control of the wheel, and then the fire…

Quick!

A smiling face…

Remember it!! Who was that smiling in the car?!

The petals as red as blood…burning, mixing in the fire…

I’m going to kill the man who killed me with a smile… Otherwise…let me replace you…

I woke with a start, my mind nearly exploding with the flood of images of red. I then remembered that the driver of that black Jaguar was smiling…

Yes! We got into that car accident because Youji was trying to avoid the other car that was chasing us off the highway!! That crash was no freak accident! Youji was murdered!!!

Almost in a panic, I ran out to the balcony to check the railings. "I was right!" I exclaimed into the night, my ears my only audience. The railings have been filed away and then set into its original position. Someone wanted to kill Youji! Why…?

Going back into the room, I let my head fall onto the pillow, acknowledging the pain of the impact, this time too hard. Pondering, I reached my hand underneath the pillow and pulled out a pistol. I dropped it promptly. Why would Youji have this if he could defend himself with his Tae Kwon Do?

He was murdered! I don’t know if this were personal or not… But because of this, I had to be dead… That man…he killed the cousin I respected the most…

All right! If you want, "Birman," I will temporarily play out the part of "Youji Kudo." But…my intention is to capture the man who murdered Youji!!

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

"According to me dreams are the symbols of ‘death.’ Everyday I repeat the process of dying at night and living in the morning… I’m past tired… Am I numb to living? Or Am I tired of dying…?"

--Kaine of "Kaine" by Kaori Yuuki

Author’s rants: Um… Another part ended, ne? Don’t worry, it’s going to get much weirder after this… I don’t know if Aya really has a car all that expensive, but let’s not mind about the car, ne? ^^;; Uriel is my original (sort of) character, so otherwise…all things belong to © Project Weiss… Didn’t make the characters, never claimed so. Flames go to yours truly youkofujima@hotmail.com. Thanks! ^^