Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Building Our Tomorrow ❯ Placing the Peices ( Chapter 4 )

AN: Well, getting this out took a little longer than expected as the chapter kind of picked up a life of its own. There was so much I wanted to cover before the next chapter, and new ideas kept popping up that will help advance the story for later chapters. So this is going to be a long one, and I think they all will be in the future based on this chapter turned out. A note to those who want to see some REAL lemony action; be patient for one, maybe two chapters; the OxN and SxY action will be arriving shortly, but the storyline demands that it come in its own time. Other pairings will also make themselves known as well, though it's not all yaoi. As much as love it, I just don't find it realistic that every one of the guys would be gay and/or bi. Oh, yeah… Begging and Pleading… I really need some suggestions for male and female German names; I've got some Japanese names figured out, but I have absolutely zero knowledge with German anything save the little I pick up from Fanfics. So anyway on with the story, and if you have time, drop a review. I'd like to know what people think.

 

Reviews

Splitpersona: Though the Omi-torture was definitely going to be in here anyway, since you asked so nicely, I thought I might add a little more. So rather than skimping on the kidnapping scene, I've put a little (a lot) extra in, just for you. Consider this chapter dedicated to you, my lone reviewer Plus, you will get to see plenty of Omi - and everyone else - torture (I'm generous with my character torture) as the story progresses.

 

Warnings: Language, Violence, NCS (almost); you know all the fun stuff any good Weiss fic should have.

 

 

Internal dialogue

Telepathy

 

Chapter 4

 

Finally, Omi thought as he lay in bed. Nagi and I are going back home tomorrow. The two years spent at Rosenkreuz had been far worse than either boy had imagined. It had been a great trial just to keep themselves sane. The only thing truly holding their minds together, keeping them from breaking, had been the silent support and comfort they had been able to give to one another. Now, though, they were finished with the unforgiving training regimen. I've really missed Schu, Farf and Crawford, and soon Nagi and I won't have to ignore each other anymore. This was his final thought as he fell under the sandman's spell, smiling contentedly in dreams of better things to come.

 

Omi was stirred from his slumber as he felt more than heard someone entering his room. Whoever it was, they were being exceptionally quiet, but Omi could feel the sadistic anticipation flowing from the intruder. Omi feigned sleep, cracking open his eyes to determine who the slowly approaching figure was. It wasn't uncommon for guards to check on the trainees throughout the night, though they rarely ever came this far into the room. Who the hell is it? It's too dark to see anything. He was already summoning his fire when the figure, now identifiable as male, was near the supposedly sleeping boy with an arm outstretched. Omi saw a flash of light from the window glinting on what appeared to be metal bouncing off an object in the hand of the trespasser. He was certain the still unidentifiable man was here to kill him; this sort of thing occurred frequently at the institute, and the instructors quietly encouraged it. If you couldn't defend yourself they didn't want you around anyway.

 

Deciding to make his move, Omi sat up to make a preemptive strike. Before he could he completely call on the flames, before he could even blink, he felt a needle plunge into his arm. What!? He's almost as fast as Schu! Whatever had been in that syringe was acting too fast. He couldn't move at all, and he was unable to find the fire that, only moments ago, was coursing through his veins. Frightened blue eyes turned to the attacker. Vulnerable and scared, he tried one last time to summon the fire. When it didn't work, he called out to Nagi, though he wasn't sure the urgent plea was heard as he felt the link between them fade. The unidentified intruder finally spoke up.

 

“I've been watching you for a long time now, little pyro. The others don't see it, but I do. You're stronger than you let on; they all think you're broken. I know better, and I'm going to fix the situation.” The voice was familiar to Omi, though he couldn't picture a face. “I'm going to make sure you remember who your masters are.” The man withdrew a long knife from his belt and straddled the defenseless boy on the bed. “You will scream for me.” Omi knew he couldn't do anything but suffer through whatever tortures this man had planned for him, but he would not give in. I will not break. Omi was very scared, but he found the strength to defy the man as he cut away his shirt.

 

“I will not break,” he said out loud in a surprisingly steady voice.

 

“Oh, you will; we have all night to play, and I intend to enjoy every moment.” the man stated while using strips of the ruined shirt to secure Omi's arms above his head. “Now, I suppose you're wondered what it was that I gave you. The drug itself is used to suppress talents. A nice side effect is temporary immobility. That will wear off soon enough, but you'll be powerless for about ten hours. We won't need that long; you'll be begging for death before morning, and then you will belong only to Esset.”

 

Omi stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the painful sensation as the knife dug into his bare abdomen. Several cuts joined the first, some deep, others shallow. It was when he felt the man begin to lick at the wounds that his strong resolve began to waver. He tensed when he felt the knife move to waste band of his underwear. Ignore it, ignore it, don't give in. Why can't I ignore it? He was eleven, not naïve, and he knew what was likely to happen at this point. Once the boxers were removed from his body, he felt another sharp pain as the knife began its work anew, this time cutting into his thigh. This went on for what seemed an eternity, until the man was no longer atop him. Finding he could now move his head, Omi fearfully looked around. The site of the man unzipping his pants brought confirmation to his earlier fears bringing a new wave of panic. His anxiety increased ten fold as the intruder took his time lowering his pants to his ankles and stepping out of them. Turning his eyes back to the ceiling, the blonde shivered in fear as he felt the bed shift. Please, he begged no one. Please, someone help me.

 

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Nagi shot up in his bed. What was that? He hadn't felt fear of that magnitude since the night Schwartz rescued him from a life on the streets. He knew it wasn't anything from him, so it had to have come from Omi. Omi? He tried. Nothing. Gasping, he realized he could barely feel the telepathic bond, when suddenly, it was gone completely. Nagi wasn't sure what he should do, but he was positive his friend was in danger. Omi can take care of himself, he thought. But what if whatever caused the link to disappear also caused… Sapphire eyes widened in realization as he practically threw himself from bed, hurriedly getting dressed. This must have been why Crawford gave me those strange words our last night in Japan. Well, Crawford, I intend to follow my heart and help my friend no matter what happens to me. Resolute, Nagi quickly made his way from his room into the dark hallway. As fast as he could without being noticed, he made his way through the maze-like route that would take him to Omi. Dodging the guards and weaving his way through the shadows, Nagi finally arrived in front of Omi's room, nearly forty minutes later. Silently praying to whatever gods were listening that he was not too late, he tried the door. Locked. As if that would stop me. Applying his powers to the lock, he again tried the door, having more success as the dark room was opened to him.

 

He nearly froze as his eyes adjusted, revealing the large figure positioning himself on the smaller form of his friend. Rage was too gentle a word for what he felt as Nagi wasted no time in removing the man from his friend, throwing him to the furthest wall from the bed. The man on the floor appeared slightly dazed, but Nagi knew better than to turn his back. Applying pressure and forcing the man to stay in place Nagi squeezed the man's heart , brain, lungs, any internal organ he could think of and one specific external organ with invisible hands, hoping to cause at least half the pain he knew (if his past experiences were anything to go by) his friend had suffered. Once sure the man was dead, Nagi turned his attention to the bound form on the bed.

 

“Omi,” Nagi called softly as he approached the non-responsive boy. Omi, who had, at some point, effectively shut his mind to the outside world, was still staring at the ceiling.

 

“Omi,” he tried again. “It's Nagi. You're safe now.”

 

“Nagi? How?” Nagi could barely hear as the blonde began speaking. “He… he injected me with a suppressor drug so I couldn't get him off me. He said he wanted to break me, to make sure I knew who my masters are. He was going to…” not able to complete the sentence, Omi finally allowed his tears to fall. He understood all to well what Omi felt. Nagi reached over to undue the makeshift ropes, freeing his friend and immediately draping a blanket over his naked, blood-streaked form.

 

“Thank you,” Omi whispered, curling in on himself, completely oblivious to pain shooting out from the knife wounds. How can I face anyone? I almost let that bastard rape me. Even though logically he knew there was no way he could have stopped anything that could have occurred, he couldn't help but feel ashamed. As if Nagi knew what the blonde boy thinking, he spoke in a soothing tone.

 

“It's not your fault. You didn't have any way to defend yourself.” Tear filled eyes turned towards him, almost begging Nagi to be right. Shifting positions, Omi winced as he finally felt the stab wounds. Nagi, berating himself for not remembering sooner, spoke up.

 

“We need to take care of your injuries, Omi.” Gently pulling the older boy to his feet, they slowly made their way to the dresser where Omi kept a small first aide kit. As Nagi carefully cleaned and bandaged the wounds, Omi saw for the first time the limp body of his tormentor. Ignoring the brief fear that flooded through him, he turned to his friend.

 

“We need to do something about that,” he said with disgust. Omi may have been afraid of the now dead man, but he was also experiencing a great deal of anger at what had happened to him. “I want to see it burn to nothing.” His tone was full of venom as cold eyes returned their gaze to the body. He knew it was a senseless idea, but he thought if he could watch his attacker turn to ashes, he would somehow be rid of the nightmare of this night. Nagi, too, thought this might help his friend; when he had faced his own demons in the vicious assault on his parents, all his feelings of worthlessness had vanished permanently.

 

“Do you know how long it will be before your talents return?” Nagi questioned as he placed the last bandage.

 

“In a few hours, before we leave for the airport.” Omi replied while dressing. Catching on to what Nagi was implying, his mouth formed a cold smile.

 

“The guards won't come for us until the early afternoon; you'll have plenty time. For now, let's get out this room.” Getting up, the two quietly made their way back to Nagi's room, where they would spend the rest of the night discussing what had happened before Nagi entered the scene and how he had known to come in the first place.

 

The next day, two blue-eyed boys sat on plane heading towards Japan, reveling in the memory of raging black flames as they destroyed the body of a man whom no one would be bothered enough to miss. Omi never figured out who the man was; though he had recognized the voice, the face was unfamiliar, and at this point, he didn't really care. We're finally going home, Omi. Omi gave his dark haired friend a smile. One set of blues eyes shone brightly at another, equally excited set of blue eyes as the plane glided through clouds towards its destination. The boys would soon be reunited with their friends as official members of Schwartz, codenames Prodigy and Inferno.

 

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“Fuck!” Schuldig gasped as he awoke from a nightmare. It wasn't unusual for the twenty year old to relive his time at Rosenkreuz in his sleep; though the dreams came less frequently, they still came. It was, however, unusual for him to relive something that never happened to him in the first place. A knock sounded at his door.

 

“Yeah,” he called out breathlessly, still feeling the after effects of the dream. The door opened to reveal a haggard looking Farfarello.

 

“I had a dream that did not belong to me,” the white haired teen stated.

 

“As did I.” Crawford appeared in the doorway.

 

“Don't look at me,” the green eyed man defended. “I'm guessing you saw the same thing I did, though.” Two nods confirmed his conjecture. “So it has to be Omi or Nagi, but neither should be strong enough in their secondary talents to project like that.”

 

“Clearly, that is not the case,” Crawford reasoned. “We should address this immediately, especially if it turns out to be Omi. Takatori will be returning from his business trip at the end of this week and will expect `Mamoru' to return. It would be disastrous were Omi to project his dreams to anyone in the house; they may find out something none of them should know, yet.”

 

“Not to mention the fact that none of us need any extra nightmares to add to our own. Those I already have are more than enough.”

 

“No shit,” Farfarello muttered, running a hand through his short hair. “As it is, I could without several of the ones I have.” No one disagreed with this sentiment.

 

“We'll leave it until morning,” Crawford said, heading back to his own room for the night. The golden eyed boy followed shortly thereafter. Schuldig sighed to himself and tried to get back to sleep.

 

As the matter of shared dreams was being discussed in Schuldig's room, a similar conversation was occurring between the youngest members of Schwartz in their room.

 

“I don't get it,” Nagi said. “Some of that was what happened to me, but the rest of it, it was like I was seeing through someone else's eyes.” The boys had woken nearly at the same time. For the last three weeks, they had both been having nightmares about the institute, but nothing like this had ever happened before.

 

“I think,” the blonde started, “that the rest was mine, because I know some of that stuff happened to me, but like you said, the rest was like it was someone else.”

 

“So we're sharing our nightmares, now?” The younger asked.

 

“Maybe it's because we've kept the link you made between us,” Omi reasoned. “We've both noticed how it's gotten stronger over the last couple of years. So maybe this is just new part of it.”

 

“Maybe. We should ask Schu about it. He was the one who taught me how to make it in the first place.” Omi nodded in agreement.

 

“Okay, but for now, I just want to go back to sleep.” Nagi agreed whole heartedly. Waking up at least twice each night from nightmares was taking its toll on both blue eyed boys. Each burrowing back into their own beds, they drifted back to sleep.

 

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After Omi and Nagi found out that they weren't the only ones to share the dream of the night before, they became even more concerned. Schuldig assured them that it was okay, that they all their share of bad experiences, and they got to work on how to stop it from occurring again.

 

“I think you're right,” Schuldig explained over breakfast. “The link between you has strengthened to the point where you're able to enhance the more minor abilities within each other. I've never heard of it happening before, but it's the only reason I can come up with.”

 

“So what do we do about it?” The brunette asked, leaning back in his chair. I hope he doesn't say we have to break the bond; Omi's my best friend.

 

“You have two choices,” the blue eyed man stated. “Either you cut the li…”

 

“No!” Two adamant voices simultaneously exclaimed.

 

“Didn't think so,” Schuldig muttered under his breath. Louder, he stated, “I said there were two choices. The second thing you can do is used this `combined' power you have to build stronger shields to keep things in. You're both capable of projecting, whether it's thoughts or emotions, but combined, you managed to break your own, relatively weaker walls.” If they could unknowingly amplify their abilities through their connection, this should be no problem. They're more in sync than they realize.

 

“Do we do anything differently than when you first taught us to make shields?” Omi asked.

 

“No,” the red head replied. “Just build them together, and it should be fine. I think. Like I said before, this is new.”

 

“How reassuring, Schuldig.” Crawford's voice was full of sarcasm. Both he and Farfarello had been leaving things to Schuldig, as all things telepathic were more his area of expertise.

 

“What do you expect, Brad; for me to magically know all the answers?” Don't call me Brad.

 

“But that's your name,” the smirk on his face betraying the innocent tone. Snickers from the younger three were heard. They had all come to realize that one Brad Crawford, for whatever reason, hated his given name. It was a constant source of friendly teasing as there was literally nothing else to jibe the brown eyed man with. Said man glared at the three sitting at the table. He would have given the same treatment to Farfarello were the teenager not sticking his head in the refrigerator at the moment. He couldn't really be angry about it since he was no clearer than the rest of Schwartz as to why the name annoyed him so much. Maybe that was why he let it slide so often, or maybe he really was more fond of them than he thought.

 

“Back on topic, though,” Omi began. “We can take care of it today. It doesn't sound too hard. And then maybe Farf can show us that new dagger he got yesterday.” Omi's sky blue eyes were shining with mischief. He was hoping Farfarello would let him try it out on one of the practice targets. While his friend enjoyed the up close torment such a weapon could bring, Omi was forever trying to find yet another item to add to his rapidly growing arsenal of projectiles. His sadistic love of pointy objects was almost as bad as his golden eyed friend's. Of course, it didn't help that said friend was constantly encouraging him. Not that it really mattered. They were all at least slightly insane when it came to their `toys'.

 

“No problem, but if you burn this one up like you did the last one, you're paying for it.” Even Crawford laughed at that. He knew Farfarello had particularly enjoyed that incident; Omi had had to grab the aforementioned dagger on an assassination gone bad. The target had gotten wind of the attempt and made sure to be prepared with a virtual army of bodyguards. Omi had exhausted his own weapon supply and spied the knife where the white haired boy had apparently dropped it. He had snatched it up and launched it at the target, who attempted to pull it out. Omi, though, had applied enough heat to the metal that it melted inside the man's body, causing that much more agony. Farfarello had taken great appreciation to this novel method of torture.

 

“That's not what you said last time,” Omi retorted, rising from the table. “Come on, Nagi. We can fix our shields and then spend the rest of the week forgetting everything coming our way.” Nagi scowled at that.

 

“I wish that mission wasn't such an integral part of our plans,” he stated, getting up as well. “We've only been back for a few weeks, and now we have to let you go off on that damn mission,” the dark haired one continued as the walked to their room.

 

“Yeah, well, it's not like there's much of choice,” Omi sighed. “Besides, I'll see you guys all the time.”

 

“I know, but I still can't wait for the day everything is finished. At least Crawford told us that everything will work out.” Nagi sat down on his bed across from Omi, who was sitting at his desk. The two exchanged a few more words then set about their task. Several hours later, they emerged from their room to find Farfarello; there was a new weapon just begging to be played with.

 

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“Is everything in place?” Persia asked his assistant. He was anxious to get Mamoru now that the boy had finally returned to his brother's home.

 

“Yes,” Manx replied. “The assignment will be completed by week's end.”

 

“Very good,” he said as she stood to leave the office. “And Manx, if a single hair of Mamoru's is out of place…”

 

“They won't even see it coming,” the green eyed woman swore. Leaving the office she thought, And the same goes for you once he gets here, Schuichi.

 

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It was a seemingly peaceful day. The sun was shining brightly, and a gentle breeze kept it from being overly hot. The area was secluded and empty save the two boys sitting on a bench near a small stream enjoying the serenity. Nagi and Omi both knew it was the calm before the storm. So this is where it will take place, Nagi stated. They were communicating telepathically since, despite their apparent privacy, they knew they were being observed. That's what Crawford said, and from the nervousness I can feel from these guys, it will happen soon. You should probably get to your perch in the tree. Nagi gave an imperceptible nod at this while standing and stretching.

 

“I saw a vendor not too far away. I'm going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?” They had this all planned out thanks to Crawford. I'll see you when this settles down, Omi. Until then, I guess we'll just have to talk this way.

 

“No thanks. I'm not thirsty.” The blonde responded to the voiced question. Yeah, it will probably be a few months before I can get out anywhere, but I'm sure I'll be able to get hold of a computer to keep up with everyone. If not, you can always tell them what's going on with me.

 

“Alright, I'll be back in a few minutes.” The younger of the two walked off and disappeared as the path leading to the secluded area turned off. Once out of sight, Nagi took a few steps from the walkway, doubling back to climb a tree with a good view of the area where the boys had been sitting. It wasn't long before things started to happen. Nagi watched silently as a tall man walked up behind Omi while another, bulkier man, approached his blue-eyed friend from the right. Yet another man, this one a blonde, was walking towards the outwardly defenseless boy from the right. Omi was playing his part well, acting the oblivious kid as the men approached, only to yelp in surprise as a large hand descended to his shoulder.

 

“Hey! What are you do…” His reaction was cut short as a hand clamped over his mouth. Give it a few seconds before you come to `help'. Omi knew Nagi needed to witness the event if things were to go according to Crawford's plan.

 

“Don't make any noise, kid, and we won't hurt you,” a voice hissed. Omi had widened his eyes in what appeared to be fear. “We're just going to take a little walk, now.” The taller of the men continued. He had black hair, brown eyes and a faint scar on his right cheek. Keeping his hand over Omi's mouth, the man yanked Omi from the bench and began walking in the direction opposite of the way Nagi went. His associates flanked him on either side. They were almost away from the clearing when a shout cause them to temporarily pause.

 

“Let go of him!” Nagi's voice was slightly shaky in his feigned fear for his friend. The blonde man turned to him as the other two resumed leading Omi away. Nagi ran towards them, as planned, only to be knocked to the ground by the man who had stopped. Deep blue eyes looked up in fear, fake tears in his eyes.

 

“Tell his father we'll contact him in the morning,” was all the gruff man said before turning and catching up to his cohorts. Nagi stayed where he was until the men were out of site. The look of fear had long since faded from his eyes; he was now doing a brief telepathic scan of the kidnappers' minds; what the blonde had said didn't make sense to him. Shit! They're going to double-cross Takatori Shuichi. Trying to reach Omi, all he felt was the silence that generally came with unconsciousness. Slightly panicked, he made contact with Schuldig. Schu! He called out, aggravated. What's wrong, Nagi. Did something go wrong with the plan? Schuldig responded immediately; he had been waiting for the brunette's report, but the boy had sounded upset. The kidnapping went exactly as Crawford said. That's not the problem. I checkedthe kidnappers' thoughts, and they're not planning to hand Omi over to Kritiker. They're going to try to ransom him to both Takatori to see who is willing to pay more, and you know what will happen if they're not satisfied. They've got him drugged or something, and he won't be able to defend himself. Schuldig halted Nagi's mental babbling. I'll tell Crawford; hurry up and get back here. By the time you've returned, we'll have something worked out.

 

By the time Nagi made it to the penthouse, there was indeed a plan, and it was already well underway. Crawford had not seen this particular turn of events and was pissed off, to say the least. Once Schuldig had relayed him the information from Nagi, the man had spent a full hour devising a course of action and checking the outcomes with each possibility. He finally hit on something that would keep the future going in their favor and sent Schuldig and Farfarello out to accomplish the task. After that, Crawford shut all the lights off and collapsed onto the couch, massaging his throbbing head; this was how Nagi found him.

 

“Crawford,” the brunette began, but was stopped when Crawford held his hand up.

 

“Everything has been taken care of, Nagi. I just spent an hour using my power non-stop, and I would appreciate some quiet for a while.” Nagi nodded and excused himself to the kitchen. As Crawford rested, he tried to find the point where things had gone wrong. In every scenario, he had always seen the three men take Omi straight to Shuichi's red haired assistant. Thinking back to the details of the visions he thought of something.

 

“Nagi,” he called. The boy reappeared from the kitchen holding an apple. “What did the men look like?”

 

“There were three, like you said,” Nagi stated after giving it some thought. “One was a short, heavy man. His features were hidden by a large hood. The second was an average looking blonde man. The last one was a tall man with black hair and a scar running down the right side of his face.” Crawford looked perplexed; there had never been a man with a scar in any of his visions. This man must be the reason behind the change in plans, but why did I never see him?

 

“The last man you described doesn't belong,” Crawford informed the boy. “If you manage to make contact with Omi, see if he's found out anything. We may need to step in ourselves if this unpredictable element continues to remain in the picture.”

 

“I'll keep trying,” Nagi replied, “but so far he's still unconscious. They either gave him something strong, or they're intentionally keeping him out.” Crawford nodded his appreciation to the blue-eyed boy's efforts and stood to go to his bedroom. He needed to lie down; his head was killing him.

 

“Inform me once Schuldig and Farfarello return,” he said as he headed down the hall. Nagi, returning to the kitchen, told him he would do so.

 

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Wherever he was, he was cold and uncomfortable. He was having trouble remembering what had happened. Must have been drugged, he thought. Can't think straight. As Omi slowly began to feel a bit more coherent, he groggily took in his surrounding. He was bound at both his wrists and ankles and laying on a cement floor. After a moment, his memory returned as to why he was there in the first place. The kidnappers had surprised him by shoving a chemical covered cloth over his mouth and nose. He had tried not to breathe in the substance, most likely chloroform, but he couldn't hold his breath forever and had eventually succumbed to the effects of the fumes. This wasn't supposed to happen. I need to contact my team.

 

Nagi? Schu? He tried them both as they were the easiest to reach, the former due to their bond, the latter simply because he was the strongest known telepath. Omi! Two voices rang in his head. Are you okay? It's been nearly two days since I've been able to get anything from you! Two days! What did they give me?What's happening? Omi had no clue as to what happened, apparently having been kept unconscious the whole time. It was Schuldig who answered. One of the men involved in your kidnapping was not supposed to be there, the one with a scar. His presence changed everything and we've had to alter the plan. Brad is trying to make sure that things are still going to get you where you need to be, it'll just take longer. Omi was relieved at that. Now focused blue orbs once again looked around. He still couldn't determine where he was, only that there was a large metal door, and that it was very cold. Do you know where I am? There's nothing in here to tell me. Nagi's reply did not make him feel any better. No. Crawford hasn't been able to get a fix on the unknown man, so he can't string together any sort of future that he's involved with. We were hoping you could be able to help with that now that you're awake. Omi nodded to himself. I'll try. Not a minute later, said scar-faced man entered the cell-like room. He's here, Schu. Connect Crawford to the conversation. Nagi, let him see through my eyes;maybe that will help him.Just as the tall man began speaking, Omi felt Crawford's presence in the back of his mind along with Farfarello, who presumably wanted to know what was going on as well.

 

“I see you're awake, Takatori Mamoru.” If Omi thought it wouldn't ruin all their hard work, he would have burned the brown-eyed man right there for simply calling him that name. It's not as if he knows any better, but still…Crawford, are you getting anything? The blonde inquired as the man began to speak again.

 

“It seems as though both your father and uncle refuse to pay the ransom we have set. How unfortunate for you,” the man's tone was icy. At the same time, Crawford replied to his earlier question. Whatever you do, Omi, do not fight back when he starts attacking. If you do anything, you will not survive.Someone, a woman, will arrive shortly to stop him. Omi felt the worry from all of his teammates at that `happy' piece of information. He could handle a beating, though; he had survived Rosenkreuz, after all. Alright, he resigned himself to a fresh set of bruises and possibly broken bones.

 

“What are you going to do?” Omi asked in a small voice. The dark haired man smirked evilly, not replying and simply kicking the boy in the abdomen. With a grunt, Omi curled himself against the nearest wall, hoping to minimize any further injuries. The man followed up his vicious kick by lifting Omi and throwing him up against the wall, a cracking sound reverberated throughout the room. The black haired man let go and watched Omi slide to the floor. He didn't have time to regain his senses as the next hit, this time to his back, came. Omi… he heard a mental gasp from Nagi. I'll be fine, he tried to reassure, though he was having trouble even thinking. You know what Crawford said. Omi gave an involuntary cry of pain as something sharp sank into his left side. Struggling against every instinct he had, Omi allowed the abuse to continue as blow after blow rained down on him. Sometimes, it was a fist, others it was a foot, and occasionally, he was stabbed, though those wounds were shallow. There goes a rib, he thought absently as a slight crunch was heard. For some reason, this man was bent on making him suffer. He occasionally thought one of Schwartz was trying to talk to him, but he couldn't tell as his vision began to darken; it was too hard to concentrate beyond the pain.

 

“W- Why?” he managed to gasp as the world began to fade. He never heard the answer as a welcomed black void swallowed him. Due to his unconsciousness, neither Omi nor the rest of Schwartz saw what happened next, though Crawford would describe the scene from his vision in detail later. As predicted, woman stormed into the room, and not giving the scarred man time enough to react, she shot him in the leg, effectively ending his torment of the blonde boy lying limp in the corner.

 

“It took us a while to track you and your partners down, seeing as how you were never meant to live past last week,” the woman spoke. “I will personally make sure the mistake is not repeated. Suffice it to say, the other two are already dead.” Her voice was even and deadly.

 

“You think I would let something as small as a death sentence stop me from my revenge, Manx,” the man replied through gritted teeth. “You destroyed my life!”

 

“Just as you destroyed countless others, including my mother, Takeshi,” the woman, now identified as Manx stated with no little venom, having no sympathy for the now named Takeshi. She raised her gun and taking aim, shot the brown eyed man between the eyes. Wasting no time, she rushed to Omi's side, checking over the wounds. He's still breathing, thank the gods. If Mamoru had died… Her thoughts were cut off as Omi stirred. Hazy blue spheres opened as he felt the pain throughout his body. By some miracle, his injuries merely looked bad; he was actually only severely bruised, with a couple of cracked ribs, some small stab wounds, and possibly a concussion. All in all he thought he had gotten off lightly. The only reason he had passed out in the first place was due to the compounded pain from the relentless attack

 

“Mamoru, are you alright to walk? We need to get out of here and have your injuries taken care of.” A familiar red haired woman was speaking to him. Before he could he answer, Schuldig informed him of a new twist to Crawford's visions. Apparently, he was supposed to lose his memory of the first eleven years of his life. Not that he would actually forget, but it was easy to pretend as he rarely thought about his blood relations.

 

“Mamoru?” Omi asked weakly. At least he didn't need to fake the pain coming through his voice. “What's going on? Why does everything hurt so much?” Quickly dropping the Manx façade, Kitada's face filled with confusion. Does he not remember what happened? Who he is?

 

“Don't worry about it. I'll explain everything once we've had you checked out.” The green-eyed woman spoke gently while helping the injured Omi to stand. It's better this way, she thought. If he can't remember who he is, then he'll never have to know about his heritage and all the pain it brings. Now what should we call him? Tsukiyono Omi breezed through her mind. Tsukiyono Omi, she repeated to herself, never once questioning where the suggestion came from, just as Schuldig had intended; the German then proceed to fill Omi in on Crawford's latest vision and how his `amnesia' would fit it in, with Nagi interjecting every so often. As Omi and Kitada slowly left what turned out to be an abandoned subway line, Omi's only thought was of how interesting things were going to get.

 

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Damn it! Omi was not in the mood for another of Manx's training sessions. He could do all this stuff in his sleep, yet she still insisted that he go through the tedious tasks. In the three years since she had brought him into Kritiker, he had done nothing but `learn' how to be an assassin. What the hell is up with these darts anyway? Omi, for whatever reason, wasn't permitted to use throwing knives or shuriken or anything of the sort. Instead he was given an arsenal of darts, which could be filled with either deadly poisons or tranquilizers. Sure they were useful, but now he had the added bonus of subjecting himself to taking progressively larger doses of each drug he would be using. Not that anyone knew that small fact outside of Schwartz; in fact, it had been Farfarello's suggestion to building a tolerance to the chemicals. Right now, though, Omi was yet again forced to practice his skills at an elementary level. Don't they realize by now that I'm better than anyone they've got? The blonde was clearly frustrated. Schooling his features, he turned to the next target, taking aim and hitting it dead on.

 

“Okay, Bombay, you're finished for now,” the red head called out. She was also rather confused as to why Omi was given such trivial tasks. Persia had never really met the boy more than once, but he often observed these sessions and should have recognized the skills. As she was contemplating her employer, Omi walked up to her side.

 

“Maybe next time, they could make it little more challenging,” Omi said dryly. Manx silently agreed. “I mean, it's not as if my real targets will stay all nice and immobile for me.”

 

“I'll see if I can get Persia's approval to increase the difficulty level of your training,” Manx replied. She knew the blonde was correct, and had several times tried to convince Persia of that very thing. What is that man up to? At least Omi knows enough to go off and practice his skills on his own… he thinks I don't know about that. What she didn't know was that Omi was going off to meet Nagi and Farfarello for much more intensive training sessions. “I'll take you back to the flower shop. It shouldn't be too long before we have another member for your team, so you need to start cleaning out one of the spares rooms for his arrival.”

 

“When will he be arriving?” Omi already knew the answer to that, acting the part of a curious teenager. Crawford had actually given him a mission to ensure the survival of the new addition. That would actually take place tonight.

 

“Within the next two weeks. He is supposed to learn of his friend's betrayal tonight; tomorrow we will take him in and promise to satisfy his thirst for revenge,” Manx was clearly disgusted by the methods Persia had her use, but at least he was keeping to his word and allowing her to choose the team. Omi actually really liked Manx, and not just because she seemed to despise Persia nearly as much as he did; when she wasn't Manx she treated him as a mother would a son, and when she was Manx, she gave him the respect he deserved.

 

“Alright,” the blonde began as they walked out of the training facility. “I'll start working on the room first thing after school tomorrow. Tonight, I have to get to the library after my shift for some research on school project.” It was as a good an excuse as any, as there really was a project he needed to finish by the end of the week. An added bonus was that the library was a short walk from the warehouse where his mission was to take place, so he actually would get some work done on the project before going on his mission. The easiest way to lie is to tell the truth, Omi thought as the pair climbed into the car and headed for the Koneko.

 

Later that night, Omi was crouched behind some rotting wooden crates, watching as the scene played out before him, exactly as Crawford had described. He looked on as a couple of thugs walked out, leaving an unconscious brunette on the floor. The young man's so-called-friend turned to walk away as well, pausing only to fling a lit cigarette over his shoulder. The abandoned warehouse went up went flames as they left one Hidaka Ken to die. Once Omi was certain no one else remained, he emerged from his hiding place, using his power to hold the blazing fire away from the unconscious figure. Kritiker needs to get here soon. I can keep him from burning, but neither of us can take the smoke inhalation for very long. No sooner than the thought had formed did Manx make here appearance, causing Omi to retreat back to his original position. Hurry up Manx! I need to get out of here, too. Using his empathy, he sent a notion of urgency to the red haired woman, who managed to drag Ken out of the warehouse and to safety. His job done, Omi crept out of the warehouse and watched as the Kritiker agent roused the teen. Deciding everything was going well, the Schwartz member cautiously made his way back towards the library to collect his belonging before returning to the Koneko. On his way back, he sent a message to Nagi. Mission accomplished.

 

Several days later, Manx called Omi to the mission room. Arriving at the bottom of the stairs, he noticed the aqua-eyed figure sitting on the couch.

 

“Omi, I would like you to meet the newest member of Weiss, Hidaka Ken, codename Siberian,” Manx was all business today. Omi gave Ken a genuine smile as he thought of how things were coming together.

 

“Hey, Ken,” the blonde spoke up. “I'm Tsukiyono Omi. My codename is Bombay, and I'll be helping you train. For now though, I'll show you your room upstairs and you can get settled in.” Ken nodded and gave the younger teen a small smile. He was clearly nervous about the situation, but he seemed to be very accepting of his new lifestyle. The brunette rose from his seat and followed Omi and Manx upstairs. Manx left them to their own devices as she heard Omi explaining the schedule for the flower shop, his voice fading as he took Ken to the upper level of the building. She was certain that Ken and Omi would become more than just teammates. An assassin's life was very difficult, and both teens could do with the friendship. Now to locate two more young men to round off Weiss.

 

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I can't believe they pulled me from my team just as we were leaving for possibly our most dangerous mission… Yuushi, be safe. Kritiker had reassigned Fujimiya Ran to a new team after he had been with Crashers for nearly a year. According to his new contact, Manx, they were a lethal unit using a flower shop, of all things, as a cover. The only reason he even agreed to this change was because she had assured him this would take him closer to his goal of revenge against Takatori Reiji. As the two approached the Koneko no Sumu Ie, Manx gave him some information on his new teammates.

 

“So, you're telling me I have to follow the lead of sixteen year old?” the crimson haired man asked skeptically. Manx turned a hard glare to the man.

 

“That sixteen year old is the best agent we have, and you would be wise to remember that fact, Aya.” Aya… He had nearly forgotten he was going by his sister's name, now. It had been so long since anyone had called by anything other than a codename, though he had finally allowed Honjou Yuushi, a.k.a. Knight, to address him as Ran. “Your new codename will be Abyssinian; Tsukiyono Omi is Bombay, Hidaka Ken is Siberian, and Kudou Yohji is Balinese.” Aya gave a nod in acknowledgement as they walked in the back door of his new home, all the while wondering why one of the names seemed familiar to him. Walking through a small hallway, they came to a kitchen where a man with shoulder length blonde hair was lounging with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

 

“Ah, Manx, as beautiful as ever, I see,” the blonde never failed to flirt with any woman over eighteen. “Is this the new guy?” he asked turning to the violet eyed man. “I'm Yohji. The others, Ken and Omi are up front right now if you want to meet them.”

 

“Fujimiya Aya,” the swordsman replied shortly. “Where's my room?” he looked to Manx.

 

“Yohji, why don't you show Aya where he will be staying. I have some other matters to attend to,” the woman turned to leave. “I'll be back tomorrow with a mission.” As they heard the door close, Yohji stood from his chair to lead Aya up the stairs towards the only available room while giving him the basic rundown of the shop schedule and what the other two were like. Aya didn't say a word, only nodded his thanks before closing the door behind him as he entered his room.

 

“Nice guy,” Yohji muttered under his breath while heading towards the front shop to inform the others of the new arrival.

 

“Yohji,” Ken called once he entered the crowded shop. “I could really use some help in here. Omi had to go make a few deliveries and the rush has just hit.” Ken looked pleadingly at the blonde.

 

“Whatever, Kenken, but you owe me,” he replied. “By the way, the new guy just got here.”

 

“Really?” Ken looked up from the register where he was currently taking money from a blushing girl. “What's he like?”

 

“He's tall, has red hair, doesn't say much. Oh, his name is Aya, and he's got a serious attitude problem.” Ken rolled his eyes at that.

 

“Well, you weren't exactly talkative when you first got here, either,” the teen responded. “It took you, what, two months before you would even say more than to words to either Omi or me.” When Yohji had first joined Weiss, he was still reeling from the loss of his partner and lover, Asuka. I guess I could give this Aya a chance. We've all got a past, I guess. Why should he be any different? The two continued to chat lightly over the crowd of fan girls until closing time. Once the store was locked up and the money counted, the two young men made their way to the kitchen.

 

“What's taking Omi so long? He should have been back by now,” the brunette wondered aloud as he opened the refrigerator in search of something suitable for dinner.

 

“You know how Omittchi is,” Yohji replied. “He's always losing track of time when he goes out to make deliveries. Personally, I think he's got a secret girlfriend he sneaks off to see when stays out so long.” Yohji didn't realize how close to the truth that was save for one minor detail. No sooner had he said that than they heard the backdoor open.

 

“Sorry I'm late guys,” Omi gave an apologetic smile as he entered. “I lost track of time while I was out.” More like I went to see Nagi. The two had remained best friends until two months ago, when they started dating. The relationship was going slowly, only holding hands and occasionally exchanging kisses, but they were happy to take things at a sedate pace.

 

“Don't worry about it bishounen,” Yohji waved it off. Omi scowled at the nickname. He was about to say something to the blonde man when footsteps were heard from the stairway. Everyone turned to see as Aya entered the room.

 

“Ken, Omi, this is the new member of Weiss, Fujimiya Aya.” Omi managed to mask his surprise at the familiar name, though it didn't go with the face. Isn't Aya a girl? But he kind of looks like her brother Ran. He remembered meeting the Fujimiya siblings all those years ago; how was he going to deal with this when he was supposed to be an amnesiac. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't the only one to remember.

 

“Omi…” Aya nearly whispered the name. Now he knew why the name sounded familiar to him. This was the same boy who had disappeared shortly after he had helped his sister. Ken and Yohji looked on curiously as Aya spoke again, this time louder. “Omi, can I talk to you for a moment.” Omi nodded and followed Aya back upstairs, leaving the confused Ken and Yohji to puzzle over the new development.

 

“What do you think that's all about?” Ken asked while Yohji lit up a cigarette.

 

“I don't know,” he shrugged, “and I doubt we'll find out. They probably just knew each other from before or something. It's not like Omi will remember anyway.” The brunette nodded and returned to preparing dinner.

 

Fuck. Omi wasn't sure how to handle this. Crawford hadn't told him anything about meeting up with crimson haired man, and he wasn't supposed to know anyone from his past. Stopping in the shared living room, the two sat down on opposite couches.

 

“So,” Omi began a bit unsure, “What did you want to talk to me about?” Aya stared at him for a few long seconds before finally answering.

 

“You remember me don't you.” He stated more than asked. Shit, I know he can tell I recognize him. I'm going to have to get better at hiding my expressions. At least he's the only one who's been able to tell.

 

“Yes,” Omi sighed. “But there's something you have to understand, fir…” Aya cut him off.

 

“Manx told me about your memory loss, so obviously, you're faking it,” the lilac-man stated evenly. Blue eyes widened, then narrowed at the implied accusation.

 

“Look, we all have things we want to forget,” Omi said acidly. “When I was kidnapped, I assume Manx told you about that as well?” Aya nodded. “Well, after Manx rescued me, I chose to be someone else. No one knows, except you, now,” And the rest of Schwartz, he silently added. “I would prefer it remain that way, just as I'm sure you have your reasons for using your sister's name, Ran.” He could feel the swordsman relax, which he found odd; when Aya looked in his eyes, he saw the question that was reflected in the blue orbs.

 

“We all have our secrets. We wouldn't be doing this” Aya gestured around, “if there wasn't something in our pasts to cause it. I can understand wanting to forget. I see no reason the others should know about this, just as I'm sure you realize that I changed my name for a reason.” Omi nodded; they had an understanding. “If the others ask, I'll just tell them I knew you from a long time ago, but you don't remember me.”

 

“And I'll keep your real name to myself. I suppose you also want the fact that you have a sister to remain hidden?” At Aya's confirmation, Omi stood from his position. “Alright, let's get back downstairs before Ken let's his curiosity get the best of him and comes to find out what's going on.” Following Omi back down the stairs, the two young men resumed their normal façades; an energetic, almost too happy teen, and a cold, stoic young man. Several hours earlier, in a penthouse across town, a dark haired man smiled as he saw the vision of two old acquaintances meeting.

 

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And this was supposed to be any easy mission, Yohji thought wryly as he loosed his wire on one of the guards who had caught both him and Omi by surprise. Omi was busy trying to get some space between himself and the guards as his weapons were more effective at a distance. It was their first mission as a complete team. Aya and Ken were off taking out the target while Yohji was watching Omi's back. The teen was busy hacking into the company's database to retrieve something or another, Yohji didn't really care what it was.

 

“Bombay,” Yohji warned, “behind you!” The blonde man turned his attention to his own opponent when he heard a pained hiss from Omi's direction. Once he finished off the last guard he turned to his teammate. Omi was standing and had finished off his own attackers, but there was a gash running down his left arm.

 

“You okay, Bombay?” Omi gave a short nod then returned to retrieve a disk from the computer before destroying the hard drive.

 

“I'm finished here, let's go,” he commanded as he began walking towards the exit, Yohji following close behind. Turning on his headset he said, “Abyssinian, Siberian, we've finished here. Have you found the target?” Yohji had to give the kid credit; the normally happy-go-lucky teen was in full mission mode. There really was no one better than him.

 

“The target has been taken out,” Aya's voice was heard. “We are proceeding to the rendezvous point. Abyssinian out.” Twenty minutes later, the members of Weiss were silently heading back to the Koneko. The mission had been a complete success with minimal injuries on their part. Omi had the cut running down his arm, Ken had a few bruises but was otherwise fine; Aya appeared to be limping slightly, while Yohji, much like Ken, only had a few bruises. Well, I guess it was an easy mission after all, Yohji thought as he observed the others. This was only the beginning, though. Not far into the future, all of their secrets would be revealed to one another and thirsts for revenge would be both made worse and satisfied. Another team of assassins would make themselves know, as well, putting an even greater burden on their shoulders, and only one of them was aware what was coming.

 

 

TBC

 

End of chapter note: For anyone who's curious, I don't just randomly give names to OCs. That being said, we will be hearing about who Takeshi was to Manx later on. It's probably not what you're thinking, either.