[When You Gonna Learn]



Soft as feathers, gentle as a whisper, snow was falling. Like tears, falling, covering everything in sight with a fine film of whiteness that could make the most corrupted seem pure. It was as if falling for him, cleansing him with its secret ritual, embracing his with its careless fingers, comforting him, healing him with its gentle touch.

He used to like snow, used to like the winter. But Winter never liked him. It made him want to go home.

That was why he stepped out of his hiding place, into the silent streets with their blinking and buzzing yellow street lamps, and walked home.

He stopped when he passed by Kitten in the house . On the window, one corner lifted by the strong winds, was a piece of paper with Omi's writing on it, thick with an orange marker: 'We now stock cattelyas!' Underneath, a smaller line of blue writing: 'Come in and take a look!'

He pressed his forehead onto the window and peered in. The shop was empty of people, as any shop would be at three in the morning. Assisted by the dim moonlight and the street lamps, he could see the cattelyas sitting just next to the cashier's desk. Well they finally did stock those flowers as he had suggested long ago. They wouldn't do it then, saying that they shouldn't just get the flowers because he liked them. Now they got the flowers, and he wondered if that was a sign, a hint. Asking him to go back.

No, it couldn't be. Not after what he had done. His eyes fluttered close, and in the complete darkness of his mind, he could see vividly the look on their faces, the horror, the disappointment, the anger in those three pairs of eyes.

The soft sound of snow being crushed alerted him, and he turned. There, wrapped in grey and red, standing with his back to the light, was his red-haired friend. No, not friend now. Maybe some day they could be friends again, but maybe not.

Aya walked closer, and closer, his grey wool scarf lifted by the ripping wind, his unbuttoned jacket flying open, showing its silver coloured lining, shining, as if warning the young man of Aya's0 approach.

He was a little relieved when he saw Aya didn't carry his weapon. He armed himself with a wicked smile, though inside the pockets of his jacket, his hands clenched into tight fists when Aya said emotionlessly,


Then a sudden rage took Aya like fire. His violet eyes flashed silver, and he walked faster, faster, eventually broke into a run, and his fist connected with the other man's jaws.


[end prologue]

chapter one