Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction / Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ White Darkness ❯ Oh Shit ( Chapter 3 )

All rights and privileges to Weiß Kreuz are copyrighted trademarks and property of Project Weiß, Koyasu Takehito, and all peoples associated. And all rights and privileges to Yami no Mastuei are copyrighted trademarks and property of Matsushita Youko and all peoples associated. The characters of these fictions are used WITHOUT permission for entertainment purposes only. This work of fiction is not meant for sale or profit. As if anyone would actually pay money for this thoughtless drivel. And even if they like it, it's right here and money is not required. So there! Bottom line: I don't own them I just like to play God with them. (oh no Farfie's gonna come kill me now!) Like an ant walking back and forth across my feet for what seems like miles upon miles. Or a bug with a magnifying glass as it slowly burns into nothingness. *Ahem* Yes, I don't own them. Never have. Never will. *Sigh*

Pairings: Yohji/Brad, Watari/Tatsumi
Summary: Yohji wakes up dead. Don't you hate it when that happens?
Contents: Angst, Yaoi, AU, kinda general
Spoilers: this takes place after the Kyoto Arc (Volume 8) and after the Weiss OVA, excluding Gluhen

Sorry it's been so long since my last update.

White Darkness

"I can't take this mission," I state in as neutral a tone as I can manage, but I think a tremor slipped through. I place the photo very carefully on the table. Who knows, it could burn me if I held it long enough.

Every pair of eyes is on me: Konoe and Tatsumi with horror, Kurosaki with pity - Pity, damn it! - and Tsuzuki and the Doc with awe, an expression that so openly expresses the envy that neither had come up with that before.

Tatsumi reclines his head so that his glasses catch the light. This is a trick that Crawford uses on occasion, to make him seem more threatening than he really is… or as a warning not to push your luck.

"This is not something that you can decline."

Fuck.

"Yes, Crawford," escapes my lips before my mind can take back the name.

The slip is politely ignored except for the kid. He looks at me with the same intensity as the German. My brain starts to itch, and I narrow my gaze at him suspiciously.

He immediately busies himself with cleaning his fingernails.

He can't be a telepath, the itch wasn't as painful as the German, but there is still something there.

Tatsumi looks meaningfully at me before he continues. "His name is Hidaka Ken, aged 20, currently residing in Kyoto and is employed at a traveling flower shop called Kitty in the House. He has been holding on to life for several years."

Years? What the fuck? He should have died? I can't remember one time he was mortally wounded on any mission. He has more sense than I do.

"He was trapped in a blaze, so I would say that he bartered with a fire demon of some sort - "

`I don't like hell.' That's what Ken said when he killed Kaze. Unable to control myself, I chortle. Only Ken would say such a thing literally.

Eyes settle on me again.

"I see nothing funny, Kudo-san," Tatsumi glares at me.

I open my mouth to retort that he doesn't know Ken, but the Doc beats me to it.

"Tatsumi, it's his first job as a Shinigami," he says gently.

I don't need sympathy.

Tatsumi glares daggers at the Doc and his shoulders tense. "That is why Kurosaki-kun and Tsuzuki will aid you." That explains their presence.

The Doc seems confused. "What about their section?"

"It's been very quiet," Kurosaki explains with a frown, as if he meant to say something entirely different.

Tsuzuki nods his agreement.

"I have already booked your reservations, and do not exceed your daily food budget," Tatsumi continues with a pointed glare in Tsuzuki's direction.

Tsuzuki pouts.

~*~*~

"I hadn't meant to ask you this," the Doc says, "but I think it would be a good thing to know for this case. How did you die?"

The meeting is over and the Doc has me cornered in a hallway. I can't look him in the eye, so I look at the owl on his shoulder.

"Ken was there," I find myself saying. Out of the corner of my eye I see the Doc's expression fall. "I don't want pity, damn it," I snap in response, turning to look him in the eyes.

He looks like I just told him his girlfriend died… well, not died, but cheated on him continuously for years and then physically punched him in the gut.

"Look, I'm sorry I snapped." I run a hand through my hair in exasperation. "I just don't like pity." I don't have a better way of explaining than that. I knew I would die. Everyone dies. I just didn't know when. I'll bet Crawford knew it to the second.

Something in my expression must have betrayed my thoughts, because the Doc is trying not to look sympathetic and with very little success.

"I need to go pack," I say quickly. And to load my watch.

~*~*~

The Kyoto hotel is the type of place Kritiker would put us up in: something inexpensive as incentive to get on with our job and not to dally with our work. That and Kritiker is run by cheap bastards.

Sighing, I plop my bag in the far corner of the room.

"So, Aya, when do you want to start?" I ask, staring out of the window. I turn around with a stupid grin plastered to my face. Aya is not there. Omi is not there. Ken is not there. Three other men are there in their stead.

My spirit takes a nosedive.

Kurosaki looks slightly vexed, where as the other two look sympathetic.

"Bon, you talk to him," the Doc murmurs. "He doesn't like sympathy."

Kurosaki's eyebrow twitches. "Fine," he says sullenly. "Go with Tsuzuki and find some food."

Tsuzuki's eyes light up and he practically drags the Doc out of the room not even bothering to close the door.

Kurosaki sighs and closes the door.

"Might as well make yourself comfortable," he mutters. Can he ever be happy? Christ, he really is Aya and Omi's love child. Nasty. Aya and Omi having sex. I feel unclean.

I plop unceremoniously at the end of one of the two beds.

My curiosity takes me by the nose and makes me ask, "What are you? I know you're not a telepath, but you're something damn close."

His face is worth asking the question: it's somewhere between horror and annoyance. He then glares daggers at me. As if it has any affect on me. I did live in a trailer with Aya.

I can tell that he wants desperately to ask me how I know, but has too much pride to actually do it.

"Watari said that you were very perceptive." His tone could freeze a lesser man's balls off. However, as I have mentioned, I've lived with Aya.

"I was a PI," I explain.

"I know," he retorts.

I raise my walls up in defense, very suspicious.

"And just how do you know that?" If we're going to butt heads, might as well make it worth my time.

"Gushoshin," he clips.

"The chicken?"

He raises an eyebrow and my brain itches.

"Look, kid, I don't want to pick a fight, but how much do you know about me?"

"Just that you were a PI and then worked for an organization called Kritiker," he juts his chin out.

"That's it?" I ask incredulously.

He nods. Good, that means he doesn't know the nature of Kritiker.

"Good. Now, tell me what you used on me," I demand. Flirting is beyond me at this point, I want information, damn it. "I know it's not telepathy, it's not as intense."

"Empathy," he responds grudgingly.

Well, that explains that.

"Good. Done. Now don't use it on me again without my permission." See, I can be just as pissy as you can, Kid.

"No one has ever been able to tell before," he admits. And the unsaid question: `how the hell do you know?!'

"I have experience with a nosey telepath," I find myself admitting.

"I'm supposed to talk to you about your death," he blurts out. "I think asking that is very rude. They would have done it, though, but I can tell when you're lying."

"Then you understand that I like to keep secrets." There is no point in lying to an empath. Well, it makes just as much sense as lying to a telepath.

"And you also understand that the information you provide will either be willingly or not, but we will obtain that information." His eyes narrow dangerously. "It's not to pry into your life - no, life's not the right word… The point is that we need all the information we can on this."

"What exactly is `this'?" I hope my tone is a bit friendlier than before.

"It's an assignment to find the person in question, in this case Hidaka Ken, and separate his soul from his body as it has refused to do so on its own."

I can't believe Ken is dead, has been dead all the time I've known him.

"How do you know him?" Kurosaki asks quietly.

I can't hide anything. He picked up my emotions during the briefing. He knows: he just wants me to say it.

"He was a coworker."

"He saw you die, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he was there," I whisper.

"And this Crawford?"

Anger.

Kurosaki blinks at the intensity of the emotion, even hisses.

"That has nothing to do with Ken," I say smoothly.

He shrugs. Smug bastard.

"How did you die?" I ask.

"That happens to be none of your business and does not pertain to this case," he grits out through clenched teeth.

"Point made."

"You are an impossible man, Kudo."

"You're not the first to say so. Besides, I already know how you died: it was in all the papers."

That catches his attention.

"Then it's fair to ask the same of you."

"Who said life was fair?"

"You're not alive."

"Point taken."

"Well?"

"You really are just like Aya. Maybe cousins?" I muse. He glares at me.

"I was shot. It was very impersonal," I sigh melodramatically. And for some unknown reason, Asuka pops into my head. She - I could see her again!

He hums and nods. "What are you so happy about?"

"My woman," I wink at him. Hope springs eternal in the hearts of the naïve.

Kurosaki regards me wryly.

"Shinigami, are they allowed to visit the dead?"

"No. Unless the dead in question is employed by Juohcho."

"How would I find that out?"

"It's kept under lock and key," he says flatly.

"Not a problem," I respond coolly before I can stop myself.

Kurosaki looks a bit uncomfortable, as if he knows exactly how it would not be a problem for me.

"How much do you *really* know?" I ask warily, hand instinctively over my watch. I don't know if he's dangerous yet, I shouldn't jump to conclusions so quickly, but then a slow assassin is a dead assassin. Thank you, Crawford.

"So he was the one who killed you," Kurosaki whispers.

My wire is around his neck before I can stop myself. His eyes bulge from fear, shock, and lack of oxygen. I realize what I'm doing and retract the wire quickly and shamefully. What has me this inhabited? Stupid, stupid.

Cherry blossoms swirl about the room, clouding my vision, and when I can see properly again, everything is different. My wire is not on the floor where it landed when I removed it from Kurosaki's neck.

This is why I hate telepaths.

"That didn't happen," I state. That is a game that the German played. Took my mind and played out a scene in my head. No wonder I was so out of character. "I don't like being fucked with, Kurosaki."

The kid looks up at me stoically, then looks away quickly. "You would never have supplied the information on your own." He's frightened of me, although he does have a point.

Shit. The wire. "You tell no one about my wire," I threaten. I don't like to threaten, but who knows how people react when they discover that you kill people for a living.

"Muraki," he whispers in a daze, eyes glassy and unfocused.

"Hey, Kid!" I snap my fingers. He flinches and his eyes clear.

"I'm sorry, Kudo-san," he bows.

"Don't sweat it, Kid, just tell me that you are going to do it, ok? I don't handle surprises well."

His lip twitches and his hand reaches to rub his neck. No angry red marks from my wire, thank the gods.

The door slams open. "Hisoka!"

The Doc and Tsuzuki have returned. Tsuzuki tackles Kurosaki to the ground. Kinky.

Kurosaki regards Tsuzuki with distaste as he pushes the man off him. "Apple pie?" he asks the Doc. He nods solemnly.

Call me crazy, but that's weird.

"Bon?" The Doc asks, helping Kurosaki pull Tsuzuki off him.

I refrain from rolling my eyes.

Kurosaki looks at me with a bit too much fear than is healthy.

I sigh. Poor kid. "Yeah, he got me to speak, no matter how ill begotten the information was." What can I say, I hold a grudge against people that surprise me. "Do you want me to just tell you straight out so that there is no more secrecy?"

The Doc and Tsuzuki look floored.

"Ken was there when I died." The Doc nods; he already knows this. Tsuzuki looks sympathetic until Kurosaki elbows him in the ribs, then he just looks sad. "We had worked together for years. I was shot in front of him. That's the short version of the long and boring story."

Kurosaki doesn't buy the `boring' part, but whatcha gonna do?

"This calls for more apple pie!" Tsuzuki declares.

Kurosaki stomps on his foot.

~*~*~

TBC

Thank you to all my beautiful reviewers!

Mangababe: The only people that are going to die are those that were already dead when the story began… I think that makes enough sense not to spoil too much.

GeneWeiss: I haven't had enough free time to look at your fic yet, but don't worry, I will.

White_Rose1: Sorry it took so long to update.

Mona: Sorry about the slight OOC-ness of Yohji in this chapter, but it was needed.

Tramontana Keeper: Sorry it took so long to update.

Daea: Thankies!

Ice'is Blue: I think this chapter cleared up that Yohji was not romantically involved with anyone in Weiss… Next chapter deals with what is left of Weiss. I'm having difficulty with it, so it might take some time.