Living the Part
Part I: The Lady's Man

By Kimmy

The doctor said that it would take him at least three weeks before he could even attempt to sit up from the bed. But obviously, the doctor hasn't heard of Ken Hidaka. Because it was only three days before Ken was up and about, hobbling with his crotches and taunting Aya to a race.

He had watched the whole thing as it happened. Yoji was in the parking lot, clearing the way for a fast if not smooth getaway with Aya, while himself and Ken were at the top of the building finishing the mission.

That's when he heard the gun - two guns, being fired rapidly and fiercely, bullets flying all over the place. Ken grabbed him by the head and dove headfirst to the floor, away from the glare of the skylights. And even when he lifted up his head, Ken firmly pushed it back down. Hiding in the safe safe darkness, no gun could find its way to his body. He was safe, but damn it, Ken was so damn persistent. Ken tighten his grip on his banguks and ran to the first attacker, darting from shadow to light without making a sound.

He watched as Ken took out the first man with a fast upswept punch to the jaw, kicking him to the floor as he did so. Ken turned to the second gunman when another gun fired. And the bullet pierced Ken's body and he fell to the floor, bleeding.

And Omi cried and ran to the unseen attacker. He wrapped his arms around the attacker's neck and screaming out of pain and anger, cracked the attacker's neck in half as Ken laid on the floor, holding his wounded leg in pain.

But how close Ken was to dying. How white was his face, and Yoji's face, and Aya's as Ken entered into ER. How quiet they were, even through they knew that it was a wounded leg and nothing more.

He remembered how he twisted and ripped to shreds every magazine he could find, thinking all the while. 'Ken-kun could be died - and all because of me.'

And even now, as he watched Ken goof around with Yoji, testing out the strength of his crotches on the living room table, whenever he thought of Ken lying on the floor of that building, Omi would shiver and tremble, and his heart would skip a beat.

"Hey, Ken-kun. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything."

The door closed softly and its lock clicked, sounding very much like the key of a prison cell. Omi stood with his back to the door and let out a long and determined breath out of his cramped lungs. He was scared, damnit, scared at what would happen if the bullet didn't miss, if it wasn't only just Ken's legs that was hit, but also his heart. Then what? The world would have lost Ken Hidaka, Weiss would have lost Siberian, and Omi - Omi would have lost his best friend.

Omi sat himself very rigidly on his bed, knees hugged to his chest as he stared into nothing, his eyes seeing nothing and everything. That was how Yoji found him two hours later, Omi's usually bright blue eyes clouded with thoughts and unspeakable fear and doubts.

The old chair scarped against the floor as Yoji pulled it up close to Omi's bed. He sat himself directly in front of Omi and sated at him, taking off his sunglasses as he did so.

"So, Omi - want to explain that little scene in the living room for me? Or do you want me to beat it out from you?"

Silence. Yoji hated when Omi acted like that. Hell, he hated when ANYBODY acted like that - expect for Aya. Aya was the exception. He was always like that. Silent and cold, thoughtful and living all at the same time. But that wasn't like Omi.

Yoji reached out and gave Omi a little shove. "Hey, kid, wake up already."

"Yoji-kun-" Oh shit, there was *THAT* voice, the voice Omi rarely if ever used. It was the voice of a lost kid whose been lost ever since he was born. The voice of a little boy who lost his innocence along with his happiness a long long time ago.

"Would you write a will - just in case you die tomorrow?"

Poor little guy. mused Yoji as he watched Omi get up from the bed and walk over to his desk, rummaging around until he sat himself again on the bed, facing Yoji, notebook and pencil in hand.

"Oh sure, kid. Let's see. Well, I for one, leave my sunglasses to Aya." Yoji paused as he let out a deep puff of his cigarette and let out a delighted howl. "That'll drive him crazy! He always hated them, telling me to take them off in the store, at home, in the car. And write this: Aya, I wear them only to shade myself from the glare of your beautiful tanned skin! Got that Omi?"

Yoji let out a long laugh as Omi scribbled down exactly what Yoji said, without speaking a word. Damn it, Yoji thought. I didn't even get the kid to laugh. Something must be up.

"What next, Yoji-kun?"

"Hm.....? Oh right... To Ken, I leave behind cartons of my leftover cigarettes." Yoji laughed as he crossed his legs, his cigarette hanging off the edge of his lips. "Man, how Ken would hate that. He always tells me to stop smoking them or else I'll ruin my voice and my lungs. I might die early if I do. The little bitch even sneaks into my room and breaks the cigarettes when I'm out with my girls. Did you know that, Omi?"

"Yep. I help him."

Of course you did, kid. You and Ken are inseparable, best of friends. Hell, even I know that. "All right Omi. Write this down. See what you did Ken? You went out and fucking jinxed me! And you wonder whose gonna be the first one that Yoji haunts. Its you - you little bitch!"

A little smile from Omi and Yoji felt as if he was finally getting to the kid. "Hey, Omi?"

"Yeah?"

"This sudden interest in having a will and death and everything - I know its because of Ken's accident. You know, you shouldn't overreact like this."

'I'm not overreacting, Yoji. Go on."

Like hell you're not.

"Mmm...... For Manx and Birman, I leave behind my car. Only they can take care of Seven like I would. I guess I want to leave the best thing in my life to two gorgeous girls. That'll sure make me happy in my grave. Omi, write this down. For you Manx and you Birman, I leave behind Seven. Take care of her and don't misuse her. She may be just a car to you, but she's like a part of me. Don't forgot that."

"Thanks, Yoji-kun."

Omi closed the notebook and stood up to place it safely on the desk when suddenly, Yoji grabbed his arm. "Hey, wait a second, Omi. I didn't leave anything for you."

"I don't -"

"SIT DOWN AND WRITE DAMN IT!" Yoji had to scream only once before Omi sat himself back on the bed, notebook popped up on one knee.

"Let's see.... for Omi.... for Omi I leave this number. 5431223. Its my account number at Tokyo Savings. You are to have whatever savings I have in there. Understood?"

"Its too much."

"No, believe me, there's not a lot in there. Just enough for you to squeak by a year or two of college."

Yoji noticed that faraway look in Omi's eyes as he stood up and opened up the door. "I'm sorry, Yoji-kun. I'm tired and I need some rest. Please...."

"Say no more, say no more." laughed Yoji as he pushed himself away from the chair and walked to the door. He looked at Omi's face and shook his head. "You got guts, Omi. But you better not go around thinking you gotta keep it all inside. Its okay you know, to be -"

Omi wrapped his arms around Yoji's neck and hugged him. "I know, but thanks anyway, Yoji-kun. Goodnight."

Yoji walked out of Omi's room in a daze. What the hell just happened here? He walked into a seventeen year old's room, expecting to give him a lecture only to walk out with the thought that he might die tomorrow in his head. Omi's a strange kid, he was always strange.

But for the first time, Yoji thought as he walked into the living room, where Ken sat, taking more then half the faded couch, watching some old taped baseball games and with Aya reading the newspaper away in the corner, for the first time, he was glad that Omi was strange.

"So how did it go, Yoji?"

"Same old same old. Omi's a good kid, Aya. You knew that, didn't you Ken?"

Yoji sat himself at the armchair and tried to focus on the game when his mind started to wander. He was half awake in the armchair, sucking away at an almost burnt out cigarette, his boots and shirt on the floor, staring at nothing and everything when suddenly, Ken's voice sounding over the television's brought him back to reality.

"Yoji, its okay to cry, but what the hell are you crying for?"

Yoji gave Ken no answer as he stood up and walked into the kitchen, throwing open the refrigerator door, looking around for a beer. Damn it, he thought he saw one bottle tucked away behind the leftover pizza and fuzzy beef. Where the hell did it go?

"Hey Yoji, you can have a sip of mine if you want."

"You little bitch."