Ken is the first to speak, as usual. "Youji, you're late again!"

"It's for your sake, Ken," I warble, grabbing my apron off its hook. "If I ever showed up on time you'd all have heart attacks." Putting it on (I don't need help to tie a bow behind my back, unlike Ken) I swoop down on the nearest thing that looks like work, which just so happens to be Aya's flower arranging table.

He's so precise about it. Slender irises are laid out in a row on the table, each neatly cut off at an angle for better water uptake. A pile of the slim leaves is next to them. He's delicately placing one at a time into the square vase, tilting it at just the right angle, and securing it to tiny spikes on the bottom. The arrangement looks good, understated and classical.

I pick up a short-stemmed pale purple iris and proffer it to him. "Matches your eyes, Aya."

Those eyes fix on me, and narrow. "Go do something useful."

"What should I do?" I roll the iris between my fingers, careful not to damage it. "The girls aren't here to tend to yet, and they're the best flowers for me."

Omi's voice interrupts me. "Yohji, we're behind on these orders. Why don't you go in the back and do them?" The "already" is unspoken.

I tuck the iris behind Aya's ear before he can jerk away, then turn to beam at the boy. "Hai, bishounen! Anything you say."

Omi smiles automatically as he hands me the stack of paper. It doesn't mean anything; Omi practically smiles at the television before he turns it off, so as not to hurt its feelings.

Back room duty is boring, and that's why they give it to me. Keeps Youji out of sight for a while. I line up ribbon and fern and baby's breath, then go hunting for flowers in the glass cases. At least I don't have to smile, back here. Or stand up straight.

Aya, get mad at me already.

* * *

By noon I have most of the orders done; enough to return to the front room and talk my way out of delivering them. I need to stay here.

Some days I like to drive the little pink vehicle, waving at women and flirting if they stop long enough. If I'm delivering flowers to a woman it's a good chance to get her phone number. Well, yes, technically I always _have_ her number on the order form; but it doesn't count unless she gives it to me herself.

Not today, though. Today I need my fix. And he's alone in the shop with me because Ken is doing delivery and Omi's at school, at last! Too bad several dozen squealing teenagers are filling the space between us. I hold court at one end of the shop, slowly ringing up each customer and drawing out the conversation; Aya is stuck waiting on the girls who know exactly what they want to buy, but have to settle for flowers instead.

"Aya-san, please help me pick out something for my friend!"

"Do you think this blue suits my outfit, Aya-san?"

"Ne, Aya-san, what about this one? How much is this?"

He looks like he has a headache.

I lean forward, whispering to the three girls in line, "Be nice to Aya-san, okay? He had a tiring night."

"Ohhhhh?" They all lean forward, alert to the least hint of innuendo. Shameless, every one of them. In two years I'll be picking them up in bars, the way I do their older sisters now. The thought makes me tired.

"Well, you know," I smirk. "Even an icicle can't hold out forever against the flame of love."

"No!" "Yes!" "Aya-san, who was it?" Completely forgetting their purchases in the rush to dive at Aya, they bury him in personal questions. His eyes widen as the sense of the words sinks in. That lovely face turns towards me as I hold my breath...

"Temee..." YES! It's a full-blown Aya death glare, just for me. There is no one Aya wants to pound the daylights out of right now so much as Kudou Youji.

I smile back at him, the real thing this time, and hold up a finger. "One point for me," I mouth silently.

* * *

The idea came to me gradually back then, as I was still groping around trying to make out what had become of my teammates. Why nothing I said or did really seemed to affect them, and nothing they said to me had any meaning. The more outrageous I got, the more they dismissed me as That Youji.

I hate being ignored.

For a while I was angry, sulking around the shop and snapping at everyone who spoke to me. No one ignores Youji when he's being a bastard, and I wanted attention.

But I just couldn't keep it up. Omi's ridiculously big cornflower eyes would fill up with tears, and he'd stare at me like a wounded kitten - I'm heartless, but there _are_ limits.

Ken was almost as bad. Cruel words to that boy are like a punch to the gut; the breath goes out of him, and his face just sort of folds up in shock. He had the same expression for about a month after Yuriko left.

That's too high a price for attention. I let them both alone, and they went right back to spending all their time with each other. Sometimes I wonder if they'll become a couple.

Aya didn't even fucking _notice_. So I stayed angry at him, only him. Pushing harder and harder.

I'll never forget the day I got him to deck me.

"Saa, Aya, come to the club with me already. You need to find a girl." I draped an arm around his shoulder. "It's not good for a man to be _too_ attached to his sister, ne?"

Suddenly I was on the floor, jaw stinging like fire. Aya stood over me with murderous rage in his eyes. Not looking past me. Not shrugging at that fool Youji. Honestly hating me.

It was wonderful. I laughed, stretching out on the floor, and felt my jaw. "Ow. One point for me, Aya-kun."

Aya is as tough as I am. I can hurt him as much as I want, and he'll just get angry and hurt me back. It's much better than nothing.

See _me_, Aya. Don't ignore me.

* * *

For the rest of the afternoon he has to be civil to me, and it kills him. I love every minute of it. Around four Ken comes back from deliveries and reclaims the cash register, and I gallantly offer to take over waiting on the girls.

"You look like your head's hurting." I put my hands on the package he holds and pry his fingers off it. "Go in the back and unload the new stuff. I'll hold down the front till closing." Some of his fans sigh, and I flutter eyelashes at them in mock hurt. "Don't you _want_ flowers from Youji?"

"Yes!"

Aya's face is usually impassive, but I can read him like a book. He's thinking, //I've been planning to kill this guy at 6:01 pm precisely, and now I have to owe him a favor?// "Aa," he grates out, and moves towards the back.

"Take some aspirin!", I call after him, just to make it worse.

Aya is terrible at customer service in the afternoons; it's the only way he shows how badly the girls fluster him. I clear up the queue in short order, smoothly giving each one the right amount of flirtation with her purchase, and shoo the last one out the door just in time for closing.

"Geez!" Ken puts his head down in exhaustion. "They're like a swarm of bees or something. I don't know how you can flirt with them all, Youji."

Because I'm a worthless playboy, yes we know Ken. "Natural talent!"

I pull down the metal shutters over the windows, and start to do the same with the door, when a familiar pair of ankles shows beneath them. "Manx!" My best bow and a flourish, for the woman who holds the whip over us all. And who also doesn't think much of me. "Those stockings are adorable."

She doesn't even bother to answer, ducking past me and striding into the shop. "Mission."

* * *

On to Part Three
Back to Part One

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