Disclaimer: The settings and characters of Weiss Kreuz belongs to Koyasu-san and Project Weiss © I do not know these fine gents from Japan, nor do I claim these characters are mine at all. There will be no need for international lawsuits, since I am a flat broke otaku that just like to torture these characters.

Feedback: I’m a review whore….. So…… Please review???? >< This fic will be a multi-chapter, and I will need all of your help and support to finish this. ^^;; So please let me know what you think of this!! And for FF.net reviewers: I’d love to send you emails so if you can attach your email in the review I would be honored! >w<

“Must you go, Aya-kun?” the youngest of Weiss asked with a whine, looking at the redhead that was putting the last of his clothes into the small duffle bag. He shifted by the doorway, his hands behind his back as he bit his lower lip, distressed at having one of their friends so adamantly leaving them.

Folding and putting in the last of his pants, along with his beloved leather trenchcoat, Aya tightened the bag silently, and did a quick check around his nearly bare room before turning to face the boy. The innocent look could never cover his sharp, calculating personality that hid underneath. Aya sighed softly, and shook his head, “Omi, I’ve told you. I’m tired. Tired of commiting murder in order to execute justice, and ending up bearing even more sin. I just want to rest. No more killings, no more Abyssinian.” He turned away, his eyes landing on the picture Sakura captured, taking everyone by surprise. The four of them were more than friends, they were a dysfunctional family. “No more Weiss,” he said at last.

Omi shook his head furiously, approaching Aya slowly and hesitantly. It had always been intimidating to approach their battlefield leader, even if the boy himself was the true leader of the team. The redhead was just so aloof all the time, keeping his thoughts to himself and never letting anybody in. God knows Youji had tried, so had Ken. The only one that ever had the honor of receiving some care and compassion from the Abyssinian was the young Omi, and the boy knew in his heart it was because of his young age. He was just a surrogate brother that refrained Aya from total emotional oblivion. The brunette slowly put his hand on Aya’s arm, grabbing it tightly, “But…. We don’t want you to go….”

Aya smirked, and reached over, taking the only picture he kept in his room and put it in Omi’s hands, “Forgive me for my weakness, Omi…. When I’m ready, I’ll come back and retrieve this. I promise.”

“All right….”

A soft knock had dragged him out of his dazed state, golden eyes slowly focused as he got up, just in time to greet the boy entering his room with a patented smirk.

Nagi shook his head incredulously, “You’re still in bed? Man, you’re getting lazier every time I see you.”

The German purred as he flipped onto his belly, his long feet kicking in mid-air as he tried to fake a cute expression, his chin rested on his hands, “Aww, you don’t love me anymore, Nagi-chan?”

The Prodigy rolled his eyes, and sat down on the queen-sized bed that Schuldich was lying on, slapping the green-haired man at the back of the head, hard. “Owww! Hey, that hurt, you brat!” Schuldich cried, glaring at Nagi as the boy smirked.

“Don’t worry, Schu, you’re already stupid as it is. A couple of swats won’t kill off that many brain cells, whatever remaining you have.”

“Ow, that hurts,” the Mastermind glared at his friend. “Do you have what I want already, you wise ass?”

Smiling victoriously, Nagi fanned himself with the sheet of paper he had in his hand, “And what do you say when you need something?”

“That I promise I’ll keep away from Brad’s ass?” Schuldich winked suggestively.

“Oh, ha. Ha. Here you go, you fucking bastard,” Nagi glared, using his power to make the paper as hard as it possibly could be and slap it on Schuldich’s face, knocking the man over, until he laid on his back, reading the brief inscription on the paper. Nagi waited next to him, watching Schuldich’s face thoughtfully. He would never understand why Schuldich was so fixated on a certain redhead, but then again, he wasn’t about to stand in the way. In truth, no one within their small family had a problem in each other’s choice of partner. He just thought Schuldich chose the hardest goal to achieve, a trademark of the man’s attitude towards life.

By the time Schuldich finished reading the paper, his face was determined, thoughtful, and a tinge of hurt hid inside his eyes, the pools of topaz swirled slowly as he contemplated his next move. Smiling, the carefree look returned as the man sat up, and ruffled Nagi’s hair lovingly. “Thanks a lot, little brat. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, just don’t get yourself heartbroken,” Nagi said sincerely, watching Schuldich wave his hand once in a V-sign as he exited the room.

The office was nothing less than fancy. A large glass window made up the front sides of the office, which could be concealed to giver the owner privacy with a touch of a button. The office was furnished with the large finest mahogany office desk in the middle and two cushioned, Victorian chairs in front for the visitors. Upon entering a door was a seating area, with one sofa and two sofa chairs to the side. A long, glass table stood in front of the couch with a large bouquet of fresh flowers brought in daily, and the seat was welcoming enough to make whoever entered the office feel comfortable, yet not so much as to make the owner seem like a pushover. Every piece of the furniture was placed and purchased in accordance to human psychology, making sure that the by end of the day, all business would be within grasp, and making the office owner, and the company, millions.

And right now, the owner was really not happy. He had just cancelled his morning appointment, and moved the annual report meeting to the next day, which he was not happy about. He sat in the large, leather chair, swinging back and forth slightly as he gazed out the window. Located at the thirty-fourth floor in downtown Tokyo, the view was nothing short of marvelous. The Tokyo Tower seemed so close to him; the red mimic of the Eiffel Tower glittered by the sunlight, almost blinding, definitely mesmerizing. The city was careful with its appearance; even though skyscrapers occupied it, the government planted plenty of flora to bring the city to life. The construction of the whole of Tokyo was organized, symmetrical, and… extremely busy.

And although all of these things that meant success and prosperity, the man was frowning deeply and rubbing his temple. He toyed with the small booklet in his hand, sighing heavily. What Fate had decided would come, especially if it was one of the inevitable. He was just hoping it wouldn’t be so soon… Then again, he was hoping it would be postponed indefinitely. Less headache that way.

But, at the sound of his secretary announcing his only guest of the morning’s arrival, he knew there was nothing he could do but let fate take its course.

The door opened and Schuldich came in with a smirk, jerking his thumb towards it as it swung closed, “Your secretary is funny. She thought I was Nagi. Did you actually have the boy here before?”

“She’s new. Linda is out on maternity leave. She’s gonna have twins,” he said with a smirk, waving at the sofa, “I oughta fire Sandra though. How can she mistake a scum like you for my precious Nagi?”

Schuldich winced, pouting as he sat down on the sofa, sprawled with his legs extended and both of his arms on the back of the couch. “What is with everybody taking turns bashing poor me today?! I’m hurt!”

Crawford scoffed, and asked Sandra for two cup of coffee, one with vodka and one with cinnamon. He sat down on the sofa chair right of Schuldich, crossing his legs as he rested his elbow on the arm rest, “So, what brings you here?”

The German snorted, resting his head on the seat and looking up at the high ceiling, “I think you know what.”

The American chuckled, and shook his head, “You know what this means though, don’t you? You will no longer be a member of Schwartz, and unless needed, we will not contact you. You will not receive any medical or financial benefits from us, and you forfeit all future financial gain. You know all that, right?”

A brief moment of hesitation and a flash of pain was all Crawford needed to know what the German really thought. It actually made him quite jealous of the Mastermind’s object of affection, since Schuldich was willing to leave behind everything that literally define this person named Mastermind in this world. But knowing that the man still cared deeply for their little family was, to say the least, satisfying and relieving. When Schuldich kept his silence, Crawford smiled and shook his head. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit, and paused just very slightly to take a breath before he brought out the small booklet that he was playing with moments ago. Sliding it across the glass coffee table, he watched with great amusement as Schuldich narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“This is your share of the money we made during our time with Estet. Since you’re leaving us, it’s only fair for you to pull out your funds as you won’t receive any of the future income that this company brings. So what you do with your money is your business, and we don’t care,” the man said with a grin, enjoying this game and guilt trip he played with Schuldich. The German knew enough to not probe into his mind, and even if the other did try, there would be nothing but a solid wall barring the intrusion.

Schuldich picked up the booklet, and noted that it was a bank deposit book with the bank card inside. When he looked into the booklet, even someone as Schuldich gasped at the insanely huge amount of money, enough for the German to start his own country if he wanted to. He looked up at the grinning Crawford, speechless. Slowly, a smirk turned into a smile, as the green-haired young man stood, putting the small booklet, worth well over millions, into his pocket. He started to leave, and the Oracle simply kept his smile, looking straightforward as his best friend and life-long brother walked past him.

And as if cued, their hands clapped loudly, grabbing each other tightly, that simple gesture, so exploited by teens all over the world, expressed so much to each about their feelings, their love for one another, and their wish for each other’s luck. The hands perhaps connected for thirty seconds, but it felt like a lifetime.

Then Schuldich was out of the door, never looking back.

Tarnished Rhapsody

Le Preleude
August 2004


It had been three months after Estet was sunk under the sea, taking with it the group of fanatical, powerful religious and political players that believed in nothing but money and blind faith. The giant fortress’ demise was the result of eight young men’s contribution, their beliefs opposite, their powers resembled ones of determination and ones of the occult. The clash of the two groups created such catastrophe that an entire oversea building came crumbling down, disappearing out of sight, and out of memory.

The two groups were rumored to have met the same demise as the fortress itself, and no one had bothered to verify. A month later, a newcomer in the stockmarket game quickly rose to power, his ambition and strong will, along with extreme good luck and logical calculations and analysis, made him the strongest financial analyst in Japan. The man quickly established himself as an important player in the International economic community, investing all over the world and cashing in billions annually. He topped the list of the Forbes 4000 in less than thirty days, as people called him a monster or, as the community called him — The Oracle.

Naturally, agencies such as the SEC, the FBI, and similar agencies on all major continents launched a joint campaign in investigating the man, but apparantly, the Oracle had done nothing illegal. The handsome American would recite every financial code in every country, and his assistant was a genius in covering up his tracks. Every move nothing short of brilliance, every transaction flawless. The duo was unstoppable.

Such wealth in such a short time made people around the world nervous, and bounties were put out internationally. The duo, however, hired one of the most remarkable bodyguard out of nowhere, apparantly a small town in Ireland that no one had heard of. The one-eyed man prevented the numerous assassination attempts, over thirty within two months, and even though there wasn’t any hard evidence, it was widely assumed that the assassins sent were disposed of by the Irish.

Just when the economic world was being turned upside down, a hospital near the shore of Nagasaki accepted a transfer patient from Tokyo. She had received a severe head wound three years previous that had sent her into a deep coma. The swelling in her brain was controlled, but had not completely disappeared, which was the reason why she continued to be the sleeping princess. The hospital placed her in a high, single room, with a dedicated nurse tending to her needs, or lack thereof, twenty-four seven. The expense was, to say the least, grand, especially when the hospital itself was famed to be the most comfortable and caring high class one.

The girl looked no more than eighteen years old, long midnight blue hair tied neatly into two braids each day by her only family left in this world, and the flowers on the nightstand were changed depending on the month or the mood of the purchaser. The room was painted a calming creamy green, with a couple of paintings adorning the wall, completed by a nameless yet very talented artist, themes of forlon childhood and lost innocence. Plushie dolls crowded on a table by the large window, all of her favorites, waiting for their mistress to wake up and play with them.

The nurses chattered happily each day about the young man that brought the princess here. A handsome redhead with ethereal beauty that carried a bouquet of flowers each day, on the dot, when visiting hours began. His blood red hair accompanied those hypnotic amethyst eyes, clouded with sadness, making him look like a lost child that every women’s maternal instinct wanted to hold and soothe. But no matter how many attempts had been made, with different styles and with different beauties, the young man never showed any interest. He was a walking block of ice, as some of the scorned admirers had said, a walking statue forever frozen in time. He came every day at seven a.m., scooting his sister up and smoothed her hair out and re-braided it, changed the flowers, and opened the window to let the air in. The young man would stay about thirty minutes, then leave for the day. The nurses had seen the redhead at a local restaurant, working as a waiter well into the night. He would then come back to the hospital, stay and read to his sister for about an hour, then leave at the last minute of visiting hours. There were rumors that the redhead also worked at a construction site at night, but people dismissed it easily, thinking that no one could work twenty hours a day.

However, the young man was grower paler and paler each week, and thinner as well.

The small town on the outskirts of Nagasaki consisted mostly of a fishing community, with the hospital being the largest building in the town. A couple of restaurants, many hardware stores and fish markets that did mostly export, and local families who knew each others’ name, birthday, and family history resided there. The town was a large family in and of itself, and perhaps the only black cat was the redhead that moved here with the comatose sister three months ago.

The town stirred with gossip once more when a foreigner moved in. A white man with green hair and golden eyes. A man who spoke perfect Japanese, with a carefree attitude and a smirk that seemed to mock the world forever tugging at his lips. A man with a purpose.

And the town gossiped.


Author’s Mewlings: There! Finally, after almost a year of Final Fantasy VIII obsession, I’m switching gear once more and coming back to Weiss Kreuz. >w< I’m quite happy of the prelude, and I hope that the following chapters would be able to follow through smoothly. I hope that there will be many reviews so I can feel loved, but this story has its way of nagging me to write it down, unlike the other WK fic where I planned it all out and then it just sat there. T_T It should be about….. I don’t know, 3 – 4 chapters, hopefully.

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