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 likes to torture these characters.
Feedback: Well, as most of you know, this fic actually reached up to 69 reviews (and I love that number. >V<) but for some reason FF.net decided to close my account without ever telling me why. T_T So now all the reviews are lost. But I know the number very well (’cause of its “uniqueness”) and I hope to continue to build up from there. So please, everyone, give me the reviews that I so crave and lust after? ^v^
I watch with mild amusement as Brad stands by the refrigerator, composed to the untrained eye, as he speaks firmly with the pharmeceutical company from overseas, determined to have his way in getting Aldopa within the next sixteen hours or he would inflict mayhem. Sometimes I wonder if he remembers that we are no longer killing people for profit, but rather trying to live the rest of our lives, what’s left of them anyway, like normal humans which was deemed an impossible dream back in Estet. The way he’s talking to whichever poor representative on the other line makes me expect him to threaten deaths anytime soon, and I’m pretty sure that he’s close to that point as well. Even Farfarello tries his very best, taking medicines on time as he was told, just so he could at least, some how, proved Estet wrong that we can live like normal people.
Then again, we cover up the occassional massacre pretty well. We do have a lot of training in that.
I turn when the door opens, and steam exited before Schuldich, as the telepath cradled a sleeping Aya, fresh out of the shower, and gently set the boy back onto the sofa bed. Through the bond that we have all established within our little family, his hurt bleeds through and he is not doing anything to dampen it. We’ve teased him endlessly when we first came over to his and Aya’s little love nest about him putting a light lid on his telepathic abilities, just enough so that he would not be listening to people unintentionally and constantly, which he had obviously enjoyed in the past. Something about Aya disapproved of him doing that, especially around him, so he did that out of love.
And he was so damn cocky and smirky while Aya was blushing when he drawled out the word. And now… Even without the pain bleeding through our mental bond, it still hurts to watch. It just hurts more for us.
It still amazes me that I consider what was once my mortal enemy now part of the family. Schwartz were never ones to open up and accept applications at will, not that many were applying, but the way that Aya went from constantly pointing his katana at us and crying “shi-ne” at the top of his lungs, his amethyst eyes burned with such hatred that had we not been exposed to that emotion all our lives, we would’ve cringed and panicked and who knows what else, and for the last several times I’ve seen him he actually represented more like a human being than when we studied him and the rest of the Weiss in the past. Though still hard to detect, he was truly smiling, and the contentedness and happiness was so clearly felt telepathically more than he let on. The two of them were really happy, and now, because of some childish jealousy, the happiness that would even bring a smile to Brad’s lips was—
A large, warm hand is placed on my shoulder as I feel Brad standing behind me, apparently done with the phone call, and together we watch as Schuldich sits down behind Aya, cradling the redhead in his lap, and proceeding to brush the long strands of crimson with a brush systematically. Aya sits lifelessly in Schuldich’s arms, like a sleeping doll, as Schuldich shifts him around slightly to have better access in brushing all the tangles out of the hair. The silence inside the apartment was almost sacred, with the occassional creaks of the metal of the sofa bed and the shifting of the clothes that just added to the ambiance. Sacred and fragile, as if a slight distortion in the harmony would destroy the entire symphony.
And when Aya toppled over as Schuldich lost the balance he had on his lover, and I caught him with my telekinesis before the man can hit the floor, Schuldich spat in a string of German curses as he tossed the brush across the room, crashing into one of the metal pots that sit on the kitchen counter, and it bounced and fell to the tiled floor, taking along other various items with it, creating a very loud, very deafening crash that I could have prevented, but was stopped by the squeeze on my shoulder.
“He needs that,” Brad whispers, knowing that mental conversation might sound louder to Schuldich now than actual speaking. I look up slightly at my lover, a ping of jealousy sparks and dies quickly at the thought of Brad and Schu being friends and fuck buddies long before we became officially an item. It’s stupid, immature, and totally inappropriate at a time like this, when neither of us knows how to comfort Schuldich, since compassion was never encouraged at Estet, and we really never understood how to do it. At least Farfarello has the right mind of leaving the apartment and visiting the angel he promises to taint and drags her down from heaven so that he won’t further agitate Schuldich with his uncontrollable speech.
It feels like we’re failing him, just sitting here doing nothing and watching them… And I hate that feeling. I absolutely hate that feeling.
“Thanks kid,” the nasal voice says tiredly, and I look up to him, who smiles a little at me. “Hand me the brush, will you?”
I nod, and the brush flies to Schuldich immediately, who nods his thanks and takes it. He readjusts Aya in his lap, clinging to him tightly as he braids the silky mane into a neat plait, and finishes the tie with a soft, lavender ribbon. If I concentrate hard, I can hear the waves washing ashore softly, as if the world is mourning. I slap myself mentally, reminding myself that Aya is not dead, and that there is still hope.
And I refuse to think how small that hope may be…
Tucking Aya in, Schuldich sits there quietly, just watching as the moonlight caresses Aya’s skin softly. Sometimes I wonder how Aya does it, his skin looking flawless and the scars being small and faint and hidden on the parta of the body that if we saw them we’d be beheaded by a certain German, and I honestly can’t imagine Aya sits or stands in front of a mirror applying skin care product. The thought is hideous, to say the least.
A small scoff accompanies a stifled chuckle, and it was too late for me to notice that the two ‘adults’ had seen what I just thought of. Well, at least Schuldich doesn’t look that haunting anymore. And it almost wasn’t a surprise to me that the urge of doing anything to wipe that grim look, no matter how embarrassed I would be or how difficult the task, is so overwhelming that it hurts.
“Thanks,” Schuldich says softly, and he stands to stretch a little, his joints pop in several places before he strolls slowly to the kitchen, “You guys want anything to eat?”
“Some burgers, if you have the ingredients.” Brad cuts me off and straightens himself, following Schuldich into the small kitchen as the German kneels down on one knee, picking up the mess he had just caused. I watch quietly as Bradley Crawford, the man that prefers mental work over physical labor, hangs each pot and pan onto the rack as Schuldich hands them to him without a complaint. I sweep the bits and pieces of the broken china off the floor, careful not to have them cut any of my family, and dump them into the trash.
Schuldich nods, and busies himself in the kitchen as Brad steps out, after we have made the kitchen as neat as we can again. I can half-imagine how Aya might just wake up, and walk into the kitchen looking for food, then find out what a mess it had been and have a temper tantrum in front of us while Schuldich whimpers like a little puppy. It happened once in the past, and it was amusing as hell.
Fuck, that was merely a week ago, but now it feels like a lifetime. I feel old.
A plate of burgers with choices of vegetables and buns and some Thousand Island dressing lands heavily in front of me on the kodatsu, and Schuldich looks mockingly at me, the taunting light in his eyes dimmed because of the recent situation, but it feels good to see that spark a little. “Your food, oyaji.”
It’s…. Dark. I would’ve been more descriptive, but… There’s nothing to describe. It’s a space devoid of sound, touch, sight, and the link. The link that always reminds me that I’m not alone in the world; that there is always someone there, someone that cares what I need, how I am, and loves me no matter whether I deserve it or not. That someone would rather listen to my needs and my wishes than want from me, seeing me as a useful resource and taking what they need.
Someone that always reminds me that I am alive, and can keep on being alive.
Well, at least for now, anyway. I felt him earlier, and it still lingered on, the feel of him, like a thin thread winding around me. It’s just that I’m more in an exploratory feeling now and venturing around what I’m guessing to be a mental field, or telekinetic plane, as he had referred to it in the past, that the feeling of him is more faint than usual. But I know he’s there, and the thought just wipes any fear that I should have in this situation.
Since when have I been so dependant on him, and liking the feeling a little too much than I really should?
Do I really care?
…. No, not really.
I heard them talking earlier about what was happening to me… why I couldn’t move, why I had these black outs, and why I can’t even open my eyes now. I find it hard to believe the cruelty and extent that Omi and Youji had gone to to… Well, technically, it was to kill Schuldich, but… Weiss was never about explicit conspiracies of killing. It’s for ridding of the Dark Beasts in the quickest and most painless way possible. Granted, it’s an impossible ideal that Schwartz had constantly mocked us for, but it was great when we still believed in it. Just…. Gradually…. Something changed. The years following the destruction of Estet were the most prominent. It was as if that ivory tower took along with it the cloak of humanity that wrapped around us. When I wasn’t wallowing in depression, I could clearly see how slow and steadily we have become less and less stable, and more and more of mindless killers. We were becoming the Dark Beasts, except we have justice as a shield. That and we were needed in Kritiker also helped, since they are the most powerful organization in Japan.
And I was, more than once, glad that I had pulled out in time to save my own sanity. And even more so that I found a new purpose and support for life.
I walk on something that resembles a land, and look around me curiously. Amidst the darkness that, in all honesty, I should be afraid of, are glowing orbs that float about aimlessly. Well, not really floating… they’re suspended in the air, moving about only slightly, and generally just being cute little floating light bulbs. I poke one of them curiously, and am instantly rewarded with a painful throb of memory that I have no recollection of. One of the many missions that I had completed with Weiss, where I received a nasty bullet wound to the right shoulder. The searing pain had nearly knocked me out on the spot, but blindly, I threw my katana with the strength of what was left in my right arm and heard a satisfying scream, before collapsing on the floor amidst the corpse to wait for my teammates. It took them nearly thirty minutes to find my bloodied body, which looked too much like the corpses around me, and haul my ass out of there. I was incapacitated for nearly a month, which had annoyed the hell out of me with their babying.
Odd, I rather enjoy Schuldich’s babying, whereas I couldn’t stand Weiss treating me like an invalid.
And somehow, I could hear Schuldich’s teasing voice saying, “It’s the power of love.”
Horrifying how that idiot has got into me so deeply now. Heh.
Stepping away from that orb, I look around me curiously, before shrugging and touching another one that glows just a slightly different color than the one before. I smile at the memory of Schuldich trying to replicate a chocolate mousse cake recipe that we found on the Internet, and yet we ended up using the sauce in a completely different and definitely erotic way. Who says it hurts to try new things? And the warm bath following to try to get the chocolate out of embarassing areas was also quite amusing as well, even when it took nearly the entire evening and I was so exhausted the next day that I got a good bout of teasing. But it was well worth it, I think. I know Schuldich couldn’t agree more.
I poke around several other floating orbs just for fun, and soon learn the organization of these memories by the slight difference in colors even the intensity of the glow. Painful ones are more of an eerie blue while happy ones are in a slight color of pink. The lighter ones are more distinctive and the dimmer ones are the memories that I don’t even know I have. Larger ones are a long, series of events, and the small ones are mundane everyday stuff. It’s amazing how I have memories of what I ate several years ago, but the orb is so small that if I’m asked when I’m awake, there is no way I can remember. I would have spent more time exploring this fascinating realm, had a panicked feeling not jerked me back into the darkness that I was in before. I feel the fear subside when I return, and when I concentrate I find that the feeling is not mine, but rather my overprotective lover who nearly had a panic attack when he lost contact of me. I think the drug gets between the two of us actually communicating, as there is a thick fog between him and I that I couldn’t see where he was, just feel that he is somewhere over on the other side. I had tried calling him when I first awoke into this darkness, but I didn’t get a reply. It wasn’t that he didn’t try to talk to me, I know him too well to think that, but something is blocking us. I’m guessing the drug, since I have yet to hear stories of another telepath powerful enough to prevent my lover from doing what he does best. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t tell me even if there were. He’s weird like that, never liking to admit that there’s anybody better than he is, even though it’s no shame to admit that and I wouldn’t think of him any less if there is.
I settle down in the darkness that I am well used to now, and close my eyes as I let the faint, yet familiar scent envelop me into another dreamless sleep, hoping that when I open my eyes next time, I can see him instead of the darkness again.
I watch nervously as Nagi starts sucking up the clear liquid that is Aldopa using a syringe. Brad is behind me watching, whether to catch me in case I do faint from over-nervousness or restrain me in case I lose it and kill Nagi is beyond me. I wouldn’t do that to Nagi, knowing that the boy is more useful to me alive than dead. I would, however, take out at least this town and half of Japan, if anything ever happens to Aya. If the love of my life is denied of any happiness, then nobody deserves it, and I’ll make sure of that.
“Schuldich?” Nagi turns to me after he finishes the preparation, and looks at me with genuine concern that would be touching had my heart not been occupied otherwise. “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, Aya could be relying on the anti-psychotic drugs the rest of his life or even….”
“Even that, it’s better than him trapped in complete darkness,” I hiss, glaring at Nagi even though I know I shouldn’t have. “He’s claustrophobic… I don’t want him there. Now get him out no matter what you do.”
Nagi opens his mouth to protest, but closes it as he shakes his head, and turns back to the prone body on the bed. I can only imagine Brad said something without voicing it, and I’m in too much of an anxious state to even listen to anybody else.
The needle breaks perfect skin effortlessly, and I watch the clear liquid slowly being injected into my love as I try to control my breathing. I wouldn’t be helping anybody if I have a heart attack right now. All too soon the needle is being taken out of Aya, and we all watch intently, fearing for the worst. I find myself trembling, and even though I know for a fact that there are two others next to me, I feel as if the noises of the world have completely faded, and that there is only me, and the beautiful boy that I love more than life itself lying on the bed. Time seems to stop as I feel numb in my limbs, that if I dare take a breath Aya would be taken away from me by some unknown forces and I couldn’t do anything to stop. I cry out mentally, and I’m not sure whether it is Aya’s name or the God that Farfarello is so intent on hurting, and reach out to grab something, and my powers seem to be put on auto drive as I feel something, or someone, at the edge of my fingertip, in which I wrap my entire being around him and pull him back rather forcefully.
Then, suddenly, light and sound rushes back to me as Aya gasps loudly, jerking up on the bed with his eyes wide open, his body trembling furiously as if in pain. His mind flooded mine instantly with chaos and pain that I almost couldn’t handle. I pull him into my arms immediately, trying to calm him down both physically and mentally, holding him with a death grip as Nagi grabbed ahold of his arm and injects a dose that I can only guess as tranquilizers or something. Soon the lithe form slumps against my chest and the pain disappears with a lingering bitter taste. I gently set my kitten down on the bed before slumping onto the mattress myself, exhaustion nearly overwhelming me had it not been for the telekenetic’s concerned eyes on me that both annoy and warm me. I look up at Nagi, and give him a wry grin before I sigh heavily. I can distinctively feel my shirt sticking to me as I am drenched in my own cold sweat, and I can tell that I might have to change the sheets as well. Damn it, I feel weak in situations like this, and I’ll be more than happy if this is the last time I experience this, ever.
“…It’ll be better once he starts taking his medicine,” Nagi offers hopefully, which we both know isn’t going to help any, but I thank him anyway. We watch Aya sleep peacefully on the bed a little, both lost in our own thoughts, though I can quite clearly feel Nagi’s worry for the both of us, before Brad comes over, and lays a hand on the little prodigy’s shoulder. His dark blue eyes bore into mine, which I stare back warily, and for the first time in probably forever, I let him search my soul without putting up a shield that, even being partners and family for so long, there are still things that I would prefer him not to know and him vice versa. Thankfully he understands me too well and respects my need for privacy and does not try to penetrate the weak defense. Then again, he should know that the risk of me seeking revenge and tearing his wall down with all my might would be too painful to bear, and that’s probably also a reason he’s not trying anything right now.
After the man finishes his light poke, he withdraws from my mind, and I sigh softly at the feeling of intrusion finally lifted, no matter how light it was. Seeking the dark blue eyes that are too understanding and too sympathetic than I have ever seen before, I find myself asking softly, my voice an almost whimper, “…Tell me he’ll be okay.”
“He will,” he obliges without hesitation, and gives me a confident smirk. Whether or not he is lying, I am too tired and exhautsed to check. For now, that is the most powerful reassurance that I can get. I thank him silently.
“We need to go and pick up some things, Nagi,” he says quietly, and Nagi sighs before nodding, getting up from his kneeling position and buckles slightly. I grin tiredly at his discomfort, to which the boy flips me playfully before limping after his lover, and closes the front door softly. Quietly, I thank the both of them to give me the time and space to succumb to my need of getting as close to my lover as possible, and let my own psyche adjust to the relief that he is back, despite the troublesome and painful future that is ahead of us.
I sit there with my eyes glued to the closed door until my vision blurs as my eyes complain of the cruelty bestowed upon them, and I sigh as I get up, quickly changing a shirt and laying a towel on the bed over the wet spot that I have created and need to lie on, and slip into the bed tiredly. Holding onto my breathing lover tightly, thanking the Gods again for making the situation less painful than it would be, I close my eyes and breathe in deeply of the faint rose’s scent that can only be Aya’s— exotic, elegant, and eternally beautiful. The thought of the alternative future, should Aldopa fail, is simply too frightening to even think about. I breathe a shuddering breath as I clutch the warm figure next to me, and put my ear to his heart, where the steady, healthy beating eventually lulls me to sleep for the first time in the past several days.
Who cares if I’m being childish. I’m tired. I want my kitten.
I need the proof of him being alive.
And thankfully, he is.
And that makes everything okay.
It takes a great effort, too great on my comfort, but considering the circumstances, I won’t complain, for me to open my eyes. The first thing I see is a mop of orange hair that blocks my vision quite rudely, which I frown at as the strands tickle my face quite uncomfortably. What is with this dunce and his long hair fetish anyway? No, wait, I don’t want to know.
The door opens and closes quietly, and I turn, my neck aching and cracking at the move, as I first see a glass of water floating towards me, followed by the relieved smile of the small telekinetic. Feeling the unnatural power stilling Schuldich on top of me while helping me up slightly so I can wriggle a hand out of the deadly weight and grab the water, I mouth a thank you as speaking really doesn’t seem too appealing to me at the moment. Drinking the warm water slowly, I point at Schuldich with my pinky in a questioning gesture.
“The idiot was like that when we came back,” Nagi says softly, approaching the bed and sits down on the floor, looking up at me with great concern. “And he wouldn’t let you go at all. Brad said it’s better to leave him there than to fight with him, since he’s noisy when he fights.” I chuckle at that, looking down at Schuldich as I brush some hair away from his face, before Nagi takes the emptied glass from me and returns it to the kitchen. To think, a year or two ago I would have either laughed or killed the person that would dare suggest such a ridiculous notion of Schwartz members having compassion, let along directing that towards me. And now… it feels good to have someone watching over you, yet knowing the boundaries and not crossing them like Weiss. Maybe that was why I had trouble attaching to my teammates… Or maybe I’m simply biased because Schuldich wouldn’t shut up about his life with the Schwartz’s, and gave me more indepth analysis and opinions about the others than I really needed to know. Within six months I feel as if I have known the Schwartz’s for my entire life, whereas in the five years I’ve been with Weiss I know nothing about them outside of public knowledge. It’s almost… pathetic, on my part anyway. But seriously, I do not need to know that Farfarello likes to color coloring books, substituting red crayons with blood, and always signs his name with a little heart… Now that is just creepy. Schuldich is certainly not selective when he divulges internal Schwartz secrets.
What’s worse is that Farfarello had taken a liking to Aya-chan, and I have no way of stopping him when he sneaks into the hospital to change the flowers, give her little presents that I don’t want to think about where he got them from, and changes her bed sheets before I could have done it. Of course, a certain goddamned German always distracting me when I am about to visit my sister had helped the Madman tremendously in achieving the tasks. I still haven’t forgiven him about that yet.
Coming back to the bed, Nagi sits on the floor once again as he looks at me, “How do you feel?”
“Groggy. And crushed.”
The boy chuckles, before he sighs softly, “Get used to the grogginess. You’ll have to depend on those things regularly now.”
“Hm, so I’ve heard.”
Startled, Nagi recovers quickly as he shakes his head, “So you can hear us, huh?” I nod, and he smiles, “Well, we were lucky then.”
“You do not want to be in the vicinity of a powerful, yet crazed telepath, let alone trying to control said telepath.” Leaving the alternative future unspoken, Nagi pokes Schuldich immaturely before he shakes his head at the deep sleeper, the quiet relief about my ‘safe return’ back to the living world is clearly felt and my gratefulness to him and Crawford as well.
Speaking of the devil, Crawford enters the apartment with two armfuls of groceries, the unbelievable sight making my eyes widen and smirk in amusement as the man carelessly kicks the door closed with his foot, his Armani suit wrinkled from the laborious move called ‘shopping’ as he sets down the heavy groceries onto the kitchen counter. “When that idiot of yours wakes up, Fujimiya, I want you to start packing and move to our apartment,” the man declares with a grunt, “How can you live in a place where they don’t have online grocery shopping service?!”
“You’re just spoiled, Crawford,” I protest, “This place is fine, and shopping is a fun exercise.”
“No, it’s not, and you’re insane for thinking that,” wincing at the bad choice of words, Crawford looks away as he starts to put the groceries away in a silent apology. I see that Nagi sent his lover a disapproving glare, and my smirk broaden into a smile. While I could have more fun over Crawford’s misery, I decide to be merciful for once and speak up.
“It’s fine. I know the consequences and accept them,” I say, though throwing in a melancholy tone as I enjoy the harsher glare Nagi sends Crawford’s way while the American crouches down guiltily to put the boxed dry ingredients into the lower cabinet. Before I can further exploit my little power trip over the man, I feel movement in my lap as a nasal voice ruins my little fun.
“Stop tormenting him already, love. Both of them feel bad enough as it is.” Turning so he faces up, Schuldich reaches a hand and cups my face as he smiles up at me sleepily, a sense of strong happiness and relief washes over me as I recognize those are his emotions. It must have been a pretty bad situation for him to have let down his guard so much that even a normal person like me can feel his powers so directly. I try my best to send him my feelings; how sorry I feel for making him worry, and how lucky I am to love, and be loved, by someone like him. His smile broadens as he looks at me fondly.
“You have no idea,” he says, before leaning up and kissing me deeply, not caring for the foul tastes I feel in my mouth. ::I need you too badly to care about that,:: he whispers in my mind, his tongue caressing mine, eliciting a moan from me as one of his hands fists in my hair tightly.
::They are watching…..::
After a much needed shower, which also included plenty of shameless molestation from Schuldich despite the fact that this old apartment is not soundproofed and Crawford and Nagi have no intention of leaving the apartment, I am once again seated on the bed. Dressed in Schuldich’s oversized T-shirt, I eat from the feeding hand of an all-too-happy German, a smirk permanently plastered all over his face, while trying to maintain a cool front, even though I can still feel my face burning ever since I saw Nagi’s teasing smile. While my meal is light yet extremely tasty, Crawford and Nagi have met with the unfair fate of eating instant noodles themselves, which Crawford had foreseen and therefore purchased for them during his shopping trip. I have to wonder about the half-emptied bottle of tabasco sauce on the table, though. The sight makes me wince slightly.
Finishing the noddles with the manner that one would a fine gourmet meal, Crawford put down his chopsticks and looked right at us, not even blinking as the styrofoam containers floated to the trashcan in the kitchen. Smiling with almost a cruel glint in his eyes, he speaks to Schuldich while looking directly at me. “Now, revenge. Those who hurt one of Schwartz must pay, and we have a reputation to uphold.”
I frown, even though the thought of being considered one of the Schwartz now warms me infinitely. “You can’t kill them.”
The hand holding the chopsticks in front of me, dangling a slice of yellow pickle, stilled before the poor bamboo stick snapped in two and the food dropped back into the tray, as Schuldich took a deep breath and probed my mind, not bothering to disguise himself or try to make an excuse as he looks for why he should agree with me. I let the man dissect my thoughts and see my anger at Weiss’ betrayal, but also how I still consider them a family despite the fact that I walked out on them, as I eat the food with the spoon I stole from him. I chew loudly on purpose, knowing that noise would distract whatever concentration he had while listening to my thoughts, and smile amusingly as he winces.
“Must you do that?” Schuldich hissed with no menace as he takes the spoon away from me, his displeasure still visible, but considerably less violent than before. I shrug. He looks at me, begging to let him spill some of my ex-teammates’ blood with his eyes, which I reply with a silent threat that if he does, the consequences would be dire. Sighing, Schuldich gets up, and picks up the pieces of chopsticks from the mattress as he takes the plates to the kitchen, letting out his anger by purposely dropping the pots and plates into the sink loudly, breaking at least one china plate from the sound of it. Childish, really, but all the more adorable. He hisses mentally at my thought of him being adorable, which I respond with a mental smile and image of a Schuldich bunny, my latest joke of him. Retaking his seat on the bed, the man glares at me like a petulant child, and when I ignore him, he turns to Crawford expectantly, hoping his almighty leader can help grant him his wish. Too bad Crawford has no appeal to me whatsoever and can hardly persuade me.
::He better not have any appeal to you.:: comes the grumpy voice.
Of course the man had already seen my refusal to shed Weiss’ blood, as Crawford smiles deviously, the light reflecting off his glasses gave him an even more omnious look than he already possesses, which is an excellent intimidation tool that he constantly uses. Too bad he is using it on people who are already immune to it. Adjusting the glasses gracefully, Crawford crosses his arms on the table and smiles even more devilishly, if that is even possible. “I never said the revenge was to kill Weiss.”
Frowning in confusion, my eyes narrow at Crawford, almost daring him to come up with a ridiculous suggestion so I may have the chance of throttling him. The man sips the tea that Nagi has thoughtfully, or perhaps been instructed to pour for both him and his lover, before he looks at me again. A devil incarnate he truly is, judging by that bone-chilling smile as he focuses on an imaginative enemy. “Somebody has to ‘die’, of course, but it shouldn’t be Weiss,” he paused, looking at me thoughtfully. “Death is too merciful. I think you should, though, Fujimiya.”
“WHAT?!” Schuldich jumps up, looking about ready to tear Crawford into shreds, when he is pushed back down onto the mattress by Nagi’s power as I roll my eyes internally. If Crawford wanted to kill me, he could have done it while I was poisoned and got away with it perfectly by blaming Weiss. Why would he go through the trouble of helping me and then end my life again? But of course the simple logic escapes my idiotic and overprotective lover as he glares at Crawford heatedly. Placing a hand on the tightened fist, I gain the attention of Schuldich and calm him with an incredulous glare and a mental slap on the back of the head, something I have learned rather quickly to his discomfort.
Seeing that the barking dog had been tamed, Crawford shrugged, “If the two of you continue to stay in Japan, it won’t be long before Weiss tries their stunt again. So, we’re moving you to our mansion in America. We hold a funeral for Fujimiya, spread the word, and then let Schuldich take the angel to America with our private jet where Fujimiya would be on the plane. Simple.”
I frown. It all sounded too simple… While Schwartz, or rather, Crawford, is known to execute plans that are the most damaging in both physical and psychological form to their enemies, I can hardly see any revenge in his plan. But… Something didn’t sound right. I don’t like the feeling of it.
Schuldich, however, seems to have a different idea. He studies Crawford for a long time, and I can almost feel the telepathic conversation going back and forth heatedly between the two, with Nagi pitching in ever so often as the three of them darted glances between them rapidly, before the conversation seemed to stop abruptly and Schuldich nodded. “All right, fine.”
I narrow my eyes, hating the feeling of being kept in the dark. Something important must have transpired for Schuldich to smile in relief and eager anticipation…. The mere fact that he shut up is a good reason to alert me. “Crawford….”
“You have no say, since you’re not the leader anymore, Fujimiya,” Crawford replies coldly, while a flash of sadistic pleasure betrays his eyes as I scowl at him. He smirks at my defiance. “No one will get hurt, ferocious kitten. Trust me.”
And somehow, I doubt his words.
— To Be Continued
Author’s Mewlings: Oh. My. God. It has been over 6 months since I last updated… I’m not going to be surprised if nobody remembers me or this story now… (though I’ll snuggle up in a dark corner and cry.) Life has been, for the lack of a better term, hellish. My most amazing, inhumane accomplishment has to be a 25-unit quarter (10 weeks + 1 finals week) that I managed to come through with only 2 B+es and 1 B. That, along with FFXI, took up too much of my time. ^^:;; And my baby too…. My precious little baby dollfie that is no longer with me and won’t return for a long time. To say that this year so far has been filled with sadness and frustration, along with accomplishment and revelation is too great an understatement.
Well, at least I won the NaNoWriMo of 2004. ^_^ I have a plan for NaNoWriMo 2005 now, and the story is actually going to be in Chinese, since NaNo accepts Chinese works as well. My 04 NaNo is a piece of &%)& at this point, and I have no strength to finish it or edit it. After 50,000 words, that story is not even 1/3 done and I am burnt out as it is. I know the story by heart, so I’ll finish this one before I touch that one at all…. I think. ^^:;;; But it’ll get edited, soon…. I hope. *LOL*
Thanks for everyone who stuck around after FF.net burned my account, and continuously to emailed me and bugged me for this story. I couldn’t do it without you. ^_^