Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Building Our Tomorrow ❯ Revelations and Confrontations: Part III ( Chapter 7 )

AN: Here's chapter 7. I laughed a lot while writing it (but I'm demented, so you might not find it funny). The next update should be soon. Enjoy, and please review.

 

***Sorry this update is later than I told a few people. A small graduation party last night turned into a random trip to Cincinnati for all-night, drunken good times (and other `fun' stuff), and I just got back.

 

Reviews

Splitpersona: Actually, your comment about the collapsing and empathy overload had crossed my mind, and was actually a part of this chapter for about 10 minutes. Then I decided it was a bit too predictable and went another route, though what I did use was just as fun. I'm not saying anything about the Ken/Kase scenario as we haven't gotten there, yet, but the answer to your question is no.

Bombayoni: Congrats and thanks on being my 2nd reviewer ever! There will definitely be more of this in the future. Not only am I just scratching the surface of my plot, but there are already 2 sequels and several side stories planned. This storyline is going to be going on for, I'd say, at least a year… most likely longer. I do try to give weekly updates, though sometimes they come out bi-weekly.

 

Warnings: Violence, Language, Mockery of Christianity (some people find this offensive), Torture

 

Disclaimer: I'm looking into it, but as of yet, I don't own Weiss.

 

 

Internal Dialogue

Telepathy

 

Chapter 7

 

It was one of those days when you just couldn't stay inside, at least not if you were Hidaka Ken. The sun was shining, though it wasn't overbearingly hot, and there was a calm breeze ruffling his hair. The young man was wandering about with no particular destination, enjoying the pleasant weather and thinking about inconsequential things. The brunette had invited Omi to join him at the park for some soccer, but the young assassin had been distracted with something, staring off into space, giving him a muttered `Tomorrow would be better'. Ken supposed the archer's back was still bothering him, though he hadn't once complained about the injury from two days ago.

 

“Excuse me?” A feminine voice interrupted his wandering thoughts. Blue-green eyes turned to see a middle-aged woman in nun's garb. Immediately falling into the old behavior of showing respect for someone of the cloth, he responded.

 

“Is there something I can do for you, Sister?” Ken smiled politely as he offered his assistance. Though he held no real love for the Church or its teachings, he couldn't help but feel gratitude for the institution that had raised him and would have no problem giving aid to this nun.

 

“I was wondering if you might know where Saint Michael's Church is.” The woman had a kind smile as she asked for directions. “You see, I've been sent there to help run the adjoining orphanage, but I seem to have gotten myself lost.”

 

“That's no problem,” the brunette replied. “I actually grew up in that orphanage, and it's not too far from here. Come on,” he beckoned her to follow. “I'll walk with you.” The orphanage was indeed nearby, as it took the pair less than ten minutes to reach it. The whole journey, as short as it was, was spent with idle chit-chat on Ken's part. Eventually, they stopped in front of a rather large church with a beautiful stained glass depiction of the Ascension above the entrance.

 

“This is it,” the young assassin stated. “It was a pleasure meeting you Sister…” Scratching the back of his head in mild embarrassment, Ken realized that while he had introduced himself on the way, he had never learned her name.

 

“Ruth,” the nun supplied. “Sister Ruth. And it was a pleasure meeting you, as well, Ken. Perhaps you might stop by someday soon and give me some indication of what it's like living here. It would be very helpful for me to know how to raise the children so that they might grow to be nice, young adults like yourself.” The brunette couldn't help but blush at the compliment, though inside he felt a twist of pain. A nice, young assassin… yeah that's just what these kids need as role model, was the scathing thought.

 

“Maybe,” he left it open so as not to completely disappoint the kind woman. Saying their goodbyes, Ken turned in the direction of the park. Thinking twice, he turned around and headed in the opposite direction for home, deciding he would wait and go to the park the next day with Omi. Entering though the backdoor, the ex-soccer star immediately picked up a mouth-watering scent coming from the kitchen. Following the delectable smell, he was greeted by the two blonde assassins. The youngest was busy stirring something on the stove while the other was lounging at the kitchen table, an ever-present cigarette held loosely between his fingers.

 

“Kenken!” Yohji greeted, causing Omi to look away from his cooking momentarily to give a wave before returning to his task. “And where have you been for so long? Meeting up with a secret girlfriend, or maybe you take after Omittchi here?” The ex-detective had taken to poking at Ken once Omi's status had been revealed. Oh, he would still tease the younger blonde relentlessly about his boyfriend, but he had a whole new set of ammunition on that front.

 

“Yohji.” The brunette sent a glare to his teammate. “Just because you were right about Omi doesn't mean that every time someone goes out for awhile they're having some clandestine rendezvous. I was just out on a walk, and I ran into a nun who asked me for directions. As I knew the place she was looking for and it was nearby, I showed her the way.” Neither man noticed the youngest freeze at the mention of a nun. It couldn't have been Ruth… No. It's just a coincidence. Even as he thought it, Omi couldn't quite convince himself that Ken hadn't met the deranged nun. He quickly returned to the meal he was preparing and resumed listening to the banter between his friends.

 

“…and Sister Ruth asked…” Whatever Ken wanted to say was abruptly cut off as a loud crash sounded through the kitchen. He and Yohji directed their attention to the origin of the sound seeing Omi, somewhat shell-shocked, standing over a pot, its contents spilled in front of the oven.

 

“What happened?” Apparently the noise was enough to bring Aya from wherever he had been at the time. The young blonde immediately shook his head and moved to clean up the mess he made.

 

“It was nothing,” the blue-eyed teen said distractedly. “The pot just slipped from my hands. Ken's clumsiness must be rubbing off.” Forcing out a laugh, he continued. “I guess we'll have to get take-out tonight.” The three older assassins didn't buy that; they'd all seen the horrified expression on his face before Aya had spoken. The problem was that they couldn't see what would have caused it. The crimson-haired man was even more-so confused as hadn't been in the kitchen.

 

“Don't worry about that, bishounen,” Yohji said as he kneeled to the floor and removed the rag from the teen's shaking hands. “Ken and I can clean this up, and Aya can check to make sure you didn't burn yourself.” The archer nodded slightly and allowed himself to be led by Aya up the stairs towards the bathroom, leaving Ken and Yohji to clean the floor in a perplexed silence.

 

“Aya,” the teen started as the reached they top of the stairs, regaining some of his composure. “I'm fine; the liquid didn't touch me, so there's no need to check.” Violet eyes made their own quick check before the man was satisfied that his friend was unharmed.

 

“Let's go to the common room,” the swordsman said, not even giving Omi a chance to protest as he was gently pushed into said room and towards a couch. Knowing he wasn't going to get out of talking about whatever Aya had in mind, he sat down. “What really happened in the kitchen? You are many things, and clumsy is not one of them.” Roughly dragging a hand through his hair, Omi took a breath.

 

“I overreacted to something Ken said,” he stated simply. The look he received from the red head told the blonde he needed to say more than that. “He was telling us about someone he met this afternoon, and it appears that it was Farf's mother, though Ken obviously doesn't know that. Neither does Yohji, for that matter, as I never thought to describe her or even give you two her name.” Would it have been too much to ask for Ken not have met her? Now it's going to be that much more difficult; we're going to have problems now that he thinks she's just some kind, sweet nun.

 

“I can see why that might shock you, Omi, but that doesn't explain why you looked so terrified.” The pyro shook his head; Aya didn't have any clue as to what kind of person Ruth was.

 

“I told you before that it's not my place to tell. I guess, though…” the blonde's expression turned thoughtful for a moment. “I guess I could tell you some of my own encounter with her, but I'll have to leave some of it out since Farf was there as well.” The older assassin listened intently as the tale unfolded. At the end of the story, the crimson haired man had a look of utter disgust on his face, one that was usually reserved for when he thought of Takatori.

 

“So that's how you got the scar on your side?” Aya asked in revulsion and not a little awe. This bitch deserves whatever she gets… And for Omi to have done something like that…

 

“Yeah,” Omi sighed. “And that's why I acted the way I did when Ken was going on about her. She's relentless, and she'll use anyone who's convenient to get what she wants. She had me completely fooled, Aya. She knew me, what I am, and she found away around my empathy; I never even suspected her intentions. I wouldn't be surprised if she knows about Ken connection to me and therefore Farf, either. ”

 

“So, we just make sure that Ken doesn't run into her again. You've already said she'll be taken down soon enough, so it shouldn't be too difficult.” Again the blonde shook his head.

 

“No, Ken has to be there. His presence when Farf faces Ruth is necessary.” Aya's mouth moved to say something, but Omi cut him off. “And don't ask me why because I don't know. It's one of those Crawford things; you get used to it, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating.” The red head let out a pained sigh, but accepted what his friend told him. There really was no point in trying to second guess someone who dealt in the future. They would just have to trust that the American's visions would continue being correct as there was always the chance that something could change. The two assassins continued their discussion until dinner arrived, making plans for the next day; Yohji could be informed later when Ken wasn't around. Sometimes, though, things don't go according to anyone's plan.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------

 

He's there, a sniper, camping on the roof of the building across the street. Schuldig had finally managed to find the mind of the assassin Crawford had seen and relayed the position to Farfarello. The white-haired man was keeping out of sight as per usual. This was how they always worked when it was his turn to play the bodyguard since the politician refused to be seen in the presence of the one-eyed man; he said it wasn't good for his image, but they all knew Takatori was afraid of him, so they patronized the bastard seeing as how keeping him happy was in their best interests for the time being. I see him. It'll take me a minute to get up there so try to stall Takatori's departure. The telepath confirmed that he would keep their employer in the office while Farfarello made his way to the aforementioned rooftop. Crawford was right. If it had been him here instead of me, the sniper would know there are two of us given that Takatori tends to keep him and Schu nearby at all times. Making it to the top of the building and locating the would-be assassin, the part-time psychopath pulled out his adjustable pike and silently approached. Farfarello didn't even bother to see who the man was or who had hired him as he swiftly plunged his weapon in at the base of his skull. Pressing the button that allowed the pike to extend, the tip broke through to front of the man's neck; a choked gurgle was the only sound he made as he died. Not even a challenge, the golden-eyed man thought as he walked away, leaving the body for someone else to find and deal with. I'm done, he reported to his red haired companion. If Crawford hadn't said otherwise, I would think this was a waste of time. He knew his service would no longer be required for the day and informed the telepath that he would be leaving. Schuldig was aware of what was to come and gave him a simple `Be careful' in reply.

 

Farfarello wasn't one to sit around and wait for something to happen; he preferred to face things head on, which was why he was currently scouting out the local Catholic churches. There aren't many in Tokyo, only three, and she wasn't at the first two, so that leaves Saint Michael's. His mother may have been shrewd and relentless, but she was extremely predictable in that she always managed to force their encounters into a place she felt comfortable, meaning a house of worship. Far be it from him to deny her; he was more than happy to oblige as it generally gave him the opportunity to wreak havoc in a place sacred to the God who rejoiced in his suffering. The last time though, he thought as he absently raised a hand to his covered eye. The last time, she succeeded; God smiled that day.

 

[Flashback - Four Years]

 

It had been over a year since Omi's kidnapping and subsequent placement into Kritiker, and he was finally being given the freedom to go out on his own. Currently, Farfarello was trying to convince the blonde boy that the best way to celebrate being let off his leash would be to burn the small building they were standing in front of.

 

“Seriously, Farf,” the blue-eyed boy was saying. “I don't want to waste the effort. Besides, wouldn't it be more fun to actually go into the chapel and use more conventional methods of destruction? I mean, waving my hand and setting it aflame is too easy.” He's certainly right about that. Omi's got such a wonderfully devious mind for one so young. Golden eyes gleamed with anticipation at the thought of all the tears He would shed this night.

 

“Alright,” the white-haired teen conceded with no little glee. “I'll go in through the back to make sure no one sees us.” Omi nodded and moved towards the front entrance, pleased that his idea had been approved. “See you inside,” Farfarello threw over his shoulder as he disappeared around the building; he didn't see the shadowed figure follow his small friend inside.

 

“Omi,” he called out as he entered the main part of the chapel. The building wasn't that big, having only one level and containing a couple of rooms other than the one he was presently in. Where did he go?

 

“In here,” the young archer's voice sounded from a door on the opposite side of the chapel. “One of the nuns forgot something and came back; she's insisting that she call my parents to come pick me up.” Message received; they weren't alone. Not that he minded the company as killing one of God's lambs was always in good fun. However, that was something he usually did when he was on his own. I can share this one… His train of thought quickly changed as he entered the small office, freezing on the spot. Ruth! But she's supposed to be dead! A gasp fell from his lips, causing Omi to turn away from the woman he was speaking to.

 

“What's wron- AAAAHHHH!!” Farfarello watched in horror as the nun pulled a dagger from her robes and plunged it into Omi's right side just below his rub cage and dragging it down to his hip.

 

“Omi!” the teen shouted as he began to move towards his friend. Blue eyes glazed over as the boy struggled to maintain a grasp on consciousness.

 

“I would stop if I were you, Jei,” Ruth stated as she none-to-gently pulled the weapon from the blonde, eliciting another ear-piercing shriek of pain. Pulling the boy to her, she placed the dagger at his throat. “We wouldn't want to cause your little psychic friend any more harm than necessary, now would we?” She asked in an overly sweet tone, pressing the blade enough to draw blood and making her point.

 

“He has nothing to do with this,” he hissed, standing stock still, watching her every move for an opening. “This is between you and me, mother.” The last word was spat out as though it were a curse.

 

“He is an abomination, conceived out of wedlock, just as you were,” she stated as if it explained everything; maybe it did in her own twisted sense of morality. “If you would just accept that fact, neither of you would to continue to suffer. It is God's will that I atone for the sin of breaking my vow by removing those such as you from His Earth.”

 

“Our existence makes God weep.” Cat-like eyes narrowed as his anger at the situation grew. “If our deaths bring Him joy, then I will take great pleasure in denying Him.”

 

“Farf,” Omi rasped out as he managed to focus his eyes long enough to give the white-haired teen a meaningful look. He was going to do something that would give Farfarello a chance to strike. Ignoring anything Sister Ruth might be saying, he watched for the moment, and what a moment it was. The nun suddenly screamed as black flames licked at her legs, causing her to release her hold on the blonde, who collapsed to the floor and curled in on himself; his concentration lost, the fire died away, but it had been enough. As soon as Omi was out of harm's way, Farfarello tackled the flailing woman to the floor. In the struggle, she found the dagger and swung wildly, slicing the teen's left eye. The damage to the eye was not painful to him, but the blood flowing from the wound was enough to disorient him, effectively giving the nun time to make her escape and lick her wounds.

 

“Omi,” Farfarello started as he moved to the boy's side. Soft, pain-filled moans were his only response. “Come on, Omi. We have to stop the bleeding before I can get us out of here.” The blue-eyed boy squeezed his eyes shut and managed to show his friend the wound.

 

“Not… bleeding… anymore…” came the agonized reply. A single golden eye stared in disbelief at the sight before him. The long, wide area of skin where a gash had once been was now completely sealed, though how it was done he couldn't tell.

 

“What did you do? How did this heal?” The teen was rightfully confused.

 

“Turns out… that I can… nng… b-be burned… if I want to.” The blonde tried to say more but was unable to as he finally succumbed to unconsciousness. Farfarello would worry about what that meant later. Carefully gathering the boy in his arms, he made his way out of the room where he was greeted by two others; Crawford and Nagi had shown up.

 

“What happened? ” The young brunette was obviously distressed at the state if his friends. “Your eye…” The telekinetic trailed off as he noticed the amount of blood staining the blonde, the concern evidenced by his deep blue eyes.

 

“He's just out.” Farfarello replied to the unspoken question. “There was a severe stab wound, but he did something. I'm not sure what it was, but before he passed out, he told me that he could be burned if he wanted. I think he may have used his power to cauterize it.” Both his teammates looked thoroughly shocked at that; that Omi could manage to do something such as that to himself and remain coherent enough so as to explain what he did was truly incredible.

 

“How did you know to come?” The teen was truly grateful that they had shown up, but they wouldn't have known what was going on, making him curious at their sudden appearance.

 

“Omi contacted Nagi with your whereabouts and that we should come immediately.” The American answered the question. “My car is just outside; we should leave. You need to have your eye treated, and Omi needs to be checked over as well. We'll have to get Schuldig to twist a few minds regarding Omi's absence from Kritiker as he will not leave our sight until he has recovered.” Nagi and Farfarello were grateful for the man's pragmatic nature; neither had wanted to leave the archer's care to people they considered incompetent. Once in the vehicle, the bespectacled man inquired as to what happened.

 

“Ruth is still alive,” the white-haired teen stated with venom in his voice. Crawford was not usually caught off guard, but this certainly surprised him; he had been witness to what he had thought to be the woman's death. Of course, that would explain why he hadn't seen this coming. The remainder of the ride was made in a tense silence; this would further complicate an already delicate future.

 

[End Flashback]

 

The memory of the night continued to replay in his mind even as he approached his destination. He was determined that this would be their final meeting, and he would be the one walking away. Entering through the large double doors of the church, Farfarello searched for any secluded area where Sister Ruth might be hiding. He didn't have long to look as she was kneeling near the altar in the annex. Why would she be in here? This is too public an area for her tastes. Standing in one fluid motion, the woman turned to face the one-eyed man and smiled.

 

“Jei,” she acknowledged. “It's so nice of you to visit. Now I won't have to go searching for my wayward son.” Before she had even completed the sentence, Farfarello was stalking forward, having already drawn the first of many blades hidden all over his person. Their fight was about to begin.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------

 

“Ready to go, Omi?” Ken asked his blonde friend. Aya and Yohji had just started their shift meaning that the younger assassins were officially off the clock.

 

“I'll be right there,” the teen called from what sounded like the kitchen. “I'm just grabbing some water to take with us.” Not a minute later, Omi appeared next to the brunette.

 

“Do you mind if we stop off at Saint Michael's? I want to say hi to Sister Ruth.” Well, at least I won't need an excuse to get him in there.

 

“That's fine,” Omi replied, throwing a glance to Aya who gave a minute nod; everything was set. “We'll be back later. Have fun with all the fangirls!” The archer called out in the expected cheerful tone as he and Ken left the shop.

 

“Are you sure your back is feeling better,” the ex-soccer player worried.

 

“It's fine,” the pyro intoned. “Besides, we're just going to be kicking the ball around.” The fact of the matter was that Omi's back was still bothering him, although it was barely noticeable; he was going to have a talk with his boyfriend about finding someway to avoid this in the future, though. The rest of the long walk to the church was spent in a strange silence, though the brunette didn't seem aware of the tension radiating from his companion.

 

“Come on,” the brunette motioned the younger to follow once they arrived. “I'll introduce you to Sister Ruth. I think you'll like her.” Yeah, sure, I'll like her… after Farf's finished with her, I'll like her a whole lot. This thought came as he unconsciously rubbed his right side. If Ken noticed the action or the dark that crossed Omi's face he didn't anything as the pair made their way into the grandiose structure. Shouting could be heard from inside the sanctuary as they crossed the threshold.

 

“That sounds like Sister Ruth…,” Ken's voice dropped off as the woman let out a shrill scream. “Something's wrong; she's in trouble.” The blonde just shook his head and entered the sanctuary first, hoping he could keep his friend from getting in the way. They were greeted with the sight of Farfarello, though Ken didn't know it at the time, standing menacingly over the trembling nun. “Sister!!” The worried shout spurred several things. First, the white-haired man looked up from his prey to see where the shout came from; his moment of inattention then allowed the woman to move away from him to relative safety. At the same time, Ken was sprinting forward, having bypassed Omi, who immediately followed, trying to keep his friend from doing something that would only make things worse. As is it was, the blonde was just fast enough to catch the brunette's arm as they neared the altar.

 

“Stop, Ken!” The archer hissed. “You don't know what's going on.” The older assassin struggled to free himself from the teen's grip; being the stronger of the two, it didn't take long. The other occupants of the room waited anxiously to see the outcome, each hoping for something different.

 

“Oh, and you do?” he asked as he wrenched free of the hold. “That man is attacking an innocent woman! We have to help her!” What's Omi's problem? It's obvious what's happening here.

 

“I know exactly what's going on,” the pyro was understandably irritated. “And I, for one, hope the bitch burns for what she's done.” The uncharacteristic scorn in the blonde's voice more than anything else gave Ken pause.

 

“Ken,” Sister Ruth's pleading tone brought his attention to her. “You have to help me. These disgraces must be stopped. They've already begun trying to corrupt your innocent mind; you must not let them succeed.” What is she talking about? There's only Omi and that guy over there. She couldn't possibly be talking about Omi. The claw-wielding assassin was at an impasse. He looked back and forth between his trusted friend, the one-eyed man and the seemingly kind nun, unable to decide what to do.

 

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on here!” The frustration and confusion were evident as the four stood in what could only be described as a stalemate. Eventually, though, someone had to make the first move, and as fate would have it, that someone was Sister Ruth. Stepping away from the altar towards Ken and Omi, making sure to keep Farfarello in her line of sight, she slipped a hand underneath her outer robe and drew out a gun. Ken unconsciously moved to try and place himself between his friend and the nun. Ruth shook her head in mock sympathy at the action.

 

“I see that it's already too late for you, child,” she spoke as she slowly raised the gun, directing it at the brunette. “Your soul has already been corrupted by this atrocity if you are so far-gone as to defend him without a thought.” She indicated the archer by switching her aim to him; by this time, the blonde had palmed a few darts, from where only he knew.

 

“What?” his voice was laced with confusion. “Why are you doing this? You don't even know Omi!” Ken was sure there couldn't be anything else that would shock him as much as seeing a nun waving a gun at his best friend, but then there was always something else.

 

“He doesn't know anything about you, nothing of your deplorable past, does he?” One dart flipped around Omi's grasp as the woman of God asked the rhetorical question.

 

“What are you talking about?” The brunette shouted. “Omi doesn't remember anything about his past; he doesn't even know who he is.” He had already decided the nun was completely off her rocker, and having spied the younger's movements, he was trying to keep her talking.

 

“Is that what he told you?” Sister Ruth asked incredulously. “The little demon has been lying to you.” She turned her gaze to the blonde. “Haven't you, Takatori Mamoru?” Jade eyes widened in realization. Isn't Takatori the name of the man Aya tried to kill…

 

“That is not my name!” Omi exclaimed with vehemence. “I am Tsukiyono Omi. I have not been Mamoru since the day my father killed my mother.” Omi, in his anger, realized his slip too late. If Ken's eyes could open any further, they would have fallen from his head.

 

“She's telling the truth?” Ken's voice wavered slightly. “You've been lying all this time?!” Farfarello had finally had enough and chose this moment remind the others he was still there.

 

“That you would even consider trusting this woman over your friend is unacceptable. He has done what has been required of him in order to keep you and all of Weiss safe.” The one-eyed man would not let Ruth sway things in her favor. “In fact, you wouldn't have lived through the fire if it hadn't been for him.”

 

“Jei, my son.” Ruth turned her attention to the white-haired man. “Quit confusing poor Ken. He deserves to know the truth about this one. It will make the loss much more acceptable. You must both suffer for the pain you have caused my Lord, and I will repay the little demon for the scars on my legs.” The nun lifted her robes to display the horrific burn scars than ran all along her lower body. “You see what he's done, Ken? He deserves the Almighty's punishment. Help me rid the world of this evil.” Good, she's finally distracted, Omi thought as the woman was still looking at her ruined flesh. In one swift movement, he sent two darts flying. Unfortunately, the nun caught the motion and managed to both dodge and pull the trigger at the same time, though her movement lessened her accuracy. Farfarello and Ken both took cover behind the same pillar and watched in horror as the archer's hands flew to cover the left side of his neck. The young blonde collapsed to his knees and crawled behind a row of pews. He couldn't do much in the way of an offensive strike as he needed both hand to staunch the flow of blood. He could only hope that Farfarello would be able to do something as Ken was defenseless, not having his own weapons. Aya and Yohji were bringing those, speaking of whom, Where the hell are they? They should have been here by now.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------

“Manx.” Aya acknowledged at the rather inconvenient arrival of the Kritiker agent. He and Yohji were planning on leaving the shop in Momoe's care to follow Omi and Ken in five minutes. She just had to show up now, didn't she?

 

“Where are the others?” She asked as she glanced around for any signs of the two youngest.

 

“They left a little bit ago,” the blonde answered. “I think Ken was going to teach Omi to play soccer. They won't be back for a while.” He directed a subtle glance in Aya's direction; the red haired man was just as annoyed by this deviation from theirs plans. We have no idea what kind of problems that woman could be causing. We can't waste time with some new mission right now.

 

“I don't have the time to wait for them to return,” the green-eyed woman stated. “You can fill them in later.” With that, Manx walked down to the mission room, Yohji and Aya close behind. The men, rather than taking up their usual positions, stood near the stairs and watched the video play. It seemed that there was some insane doctor kidnapping random people and harvesting their organs. Some would live, some would die; it all depended on the vitality of what was removed. It also appeared that he was receiving his orders from someone else, and they would need to find out who the man in the shadows was, as well. These people were disgusting, inhuman, not at all worthy of the air they breathe, deserving no less than the bitter end they would receive. And frankly, neither Aya nor Yohji gave a shit at the moment; the welfare of their teammates was foremost in their minds. Nevertheless, they accepted the mission saying they would start immediately and inform Ken and Omi at the first opportunity. Manx seemed satisfied at that and soon departed, nearly half an hour after her arrival. No sooner than she was gone did the remaining occupants make to leave as well, Yohji grabbing Ken's bugnuks on the way out.

 

“We'll take my car,” Aya stated. “The church is too far away for us to follow on foot at this point.” The blonde agreed and they set out, each silently hoping they would find their friends intact. The drive only took about ten minutes, and the older assassins found themselves racing through the large doorway and into the sanctuary as a gunshot was heard. They saw Ken and the man Yohji knew to be Farfarello dive behind a pillar near the altar, and Omi clutching at his neck while managing to duck behind a row of pews. A nun was standing directly in front of the altar holding a smoking gun, and she looked as if she couldn't decide who to go after next. Aya and Yohji didn't waste a single second as they raced to the younger blonde's position, not caring that the demented woman noticed them.

 

“I see more of your friends have come to share in your fate,” Ruth called out while Yohji helped the youngest wrap his injury with a piece of cloth torn from his shirt; the wound looked worse than it was as the bullet had only grazed his neck. “I suppose little Mamoru hasn't told either of you his dirty secrets, either.”

 

“His name is Omi!” two voices growled simultaneously. From behind the pillar, Ken was surprised that while one was Farfarello, which he expected, the other belonged to Aya. Aya knows, and he's defending Omi. Shaking his head in shame at his earlier indecision, the young man sighed to himself. I should know better than to doubt my friends. Before the brunette could sink too far into his self-recriminations, another shot was fired.

 

“Are you guys okay?” The bullet hadn't hit near his and the white-haired man's position, but he had seen the wooden pews shatter above where the other three were crouched.

 

“We're fine,” he heard Yohji's voice. “Oh, and I brought you a little something from the store.” A set of gloves were thrown towards him, landing just within his reach. Ken gratefully pulled his weapons on and flexed his hands, activating the hidden blades.

 

“Nice,” Farfarello stated with appreciation from beside him. “Have you gotten over your `crisis of faith' now? I'd like to finish up here.”

 

“Are you sure?” the brunette questioned. “I mean she's your mother, unless I heard that part wrong.” He received a heated look from a single gold eye. Another shot rang out, this time causing pieces of the pillar they were crouched behind to fly.

 

“She may have given birth to me, but she is not my mother.” The white haired man was adamant. “She has done nothing but try to kill me for the last fifteen years, using her faith as justification. Not only that, but she killed my family, blamed it on me, nearly driving me irreparably insane. And now, she wants to take not only my life, but that of someone I consider a brother, as well. She will suffer, and God will shed tears as He watches His faithful servant die at the hands of one whom He has forsaken.” Ken didn't bother to worry about what he meant by making God cry. The rest was more than enough to assure him that this woman deserved whatever she got, especially as he assumed correctly that the brother-figure was Omi.

 

“Right, then.” He nodded his acceptance. “I'll draw her fire to give you an opening, but I want a shot at her, too.”

 

“Fine, so long as I get the kill.” Farfarello raised a hand to his left eye. “I owe her something.” Ken shrugged, figuring he could ask about that later.

 

“Aya,” the claw-wielder called out. “You guys stay where you are. We'll take care of Ruth.” He didn't wait for confirmation as he darted from behind the pillar towards the altar. Taking the bait, the woman fired at him, though her shots were always a moment too late. As she was taking aim for a fourth time, she was tackled to the ground by her white-haired son; the gun was knocked from her grasp and slid across the floor out of reach.

 

“Jei,” she tried in a pleading tone as the man retrieved a knife from his boot. “I'm your mother. Surely you wouldn't really kill me.” A steady golden gaze was all the answer she received. Taking the knife, he sliced through her right side, giving her a wound that matched the one Omi had received four years ago perfectly. Ruth cried out at the severe distress the attack caused, but her punishment was far from over. By now, the others were standing near, watching in morbid fascination as the torture began.

 

“Omi,” Farfarello looked to the blonde, a hint of a smirk on his face. “I can't do the next part; it only seems fitting that you return the favor, anyway.” Blue eyes glowed with power as Omi moved to kneel down next to them.

 

“Someone may want to hold her shoulders down for this,” the pyro stated. “This is going to be very painful. I should know.” Ken was the one to approach as he placed his hands on either of Ruth's shoulders as the woman struggled in vain. “There was no need to retract your blades.” The young blonde's voice held a hint of disappointment that he had done so. Taking a quick glance at his friend's neck, Ken moved one of his hands so that it faced the left side of the nun's neck. Hitting the trigger on each glove, the blades made their presence known as one claw dug into her neck giving her a wound similar to that of Omi's, though it wasn't life threatening; a muted scream left the woman's lips. Ken had obviously caught on to their variety of revenge as the teen gave a nod of approval.

 

“Farf, you might want to back off just a little. I don't want to burn you.” Having said that, the blonde raised his hand as it became engulfed in black flames. Yohji and Ken watched in awe; the former knowing of Omi's abilities but never having seen them used, the latter, having yet to receive an explanation, was completely stupefied. Aya simply watched as he had been given a small demonstration by the pyro several days ago; he was also aware of what the teen was preparing to do, having been given a description of the time the blonde had done this to himself. Ruth's screams echoed through the sanctuary as Omi slowly seared the bleeding area, sealing the gaping wound. The flames seemed to gently play over her skin in a mockery of a lover's heated caress. Once finished, the pyro turned to his white-haired friend, a look of satisfaction for all to see on his face. “She's all yours.” Gesturing for Ken to join him with the others, they stood and stepped back, allowing Farfarello to finish.

 

“How did you do that?” the brunette asked to which the archer only shook his head. The `I'll tell you later' was implied.

 

“She needs to be awake for this.” The nun had at some point passed out from the pain. “Think you can make her feel the need to wake up, or have you ever done that before?” Farfarello's question was directed to the empath.

 

“I don't know,” Omi looked thoughtful. “I've never tried to bring someone back from unconsciousness, but I guess now's as good a time as any to find out. I may not be able to, though. You know my empathy's not all that strong.” The white haired man shrugged; if the blonde couldn't do it, he would have no problem waiting for her to awaken on her own. However, he did have a problem with someone coming along to interrupt. We've been here long enough without being found as it is; someone could walk in at any time. The thought became obsolete seeing as how the woman's eyes were opening; they widened as she became aware of both the pain that coursed through her body as well as of the situation that she was still in. Farfarello removed one final blade from somewhere on his body and ran it over her face, not yet breaking skin.

 

“Where is your God now? Has He abandoned you as He did me so long ago?” The words were whispered into the nun's ear. She just shook her head in denial; the Lord would never forsake one of His children. If it was her time, then she would welcome the Angel of Death with open arms. Mumbled prayers fell from her mouth, prayers that would fall on the deaf ears of a God who never interfered, only watched and suffered, as the life of His devout follower slowly slipped away. Perhaps this was why Farfarello despised God as he did; an all-powerful being such as He should not allow His own creations to endure such pain. The white- haired man wasn't the first person to hate a deity for these reasons, and he certainly wouldn't be the last. In one swift motion, Farfarello raised his left hand and removed the patch over his unseeing eye, guiding the blade to hover over Ruth's left eye with his right hand.

 

“Tears will fall from Heaven as God weeps at the loss of your life,” he whispered once more. Raising his voice enough that the others could hear, he continued. “I believe it was God who told His people `An eye for an eye'.” The irony did not escape her; Ruth watched in horror as the blade descend until its razor sharp tip pierced her eye and continued on through to her brain. “Give my regards to Satan,” was the last thing Ruth heard as she died with a silent scream of denial on her lips.

 

A loud clap of thunder was heard as the five assassins walked away from the church. The sky opened up to release a heavy downpour, drenching them through their clothing. Farfarello's sudden laughter was met with three confused looks and one knowing smile.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------

 

His thoughts were flying through his head, a veritable mental tornado, as he listened to Omi go through the explanation. This is so surreal. If I hadn't been there for myself, I might never have been able to accept the truth about Sister Ruth; I was completely fooled by her charismatic nature. Not only that, but if I hadn't seen what Omi can do with my own eyes, I might think he had gone completely insane. Ken couldn't help but toy with the idea that it was he who was mad and not the blonde. The two of them had followed Farfarello back to the Schwartz penthouse once Aya and Yohji had informed them that as soon as they returned to the Koneko, they would have a mission. Coming here was the best option since the brunette wanted answers before getting knee deep into a pile of Kritiker business. As the archer's story unfolded, he found himself slowly accepting everything. The initial disbelief had been solely due to the fact that he had received one shock after another in succession, only to have to push aside any questions as the situation had grown worse. After nearly two hours of hearing his young friend out, he was left with one burning question.

 

“When we were at the church,” he began. “Farfarello said something about how I wouldn't have survived the fire if it hadn't been for you. I thought Manx was the one who pulled me out; she was the one I saw when I woke up.” The two young men were presently alone; Crawford and Schuldig were still with Takatori, Nagi was busy with some research and Farfarello had retreated to his room upon returning. Ken was settled on the couch of the penthouse living room while Omi had chosen to sit in the floor. The blonde nodded at Ken's assessment before describing what had happened at the warehouse.

 

“You're right that Manx was the one who got you out of the warehouse,” he stated. “But she would never have made it in time if I hadn't been there, and no, she didn't know I was there.” Blue eyes looked up at the ex-soccer player. “Crawford sent me to make sure you would survive, and when the fire started, I kept the flames from reaching you.”

 

“So you were there when the fire started?” The brunette looked as though that wasn't the question he really wanted to ask.

 

“You want to know how it started,” the archer sighed. He had known this would come up even though he knew the older assassin didn't need the answers. Ken gave him a short nod, signaling for him to continue. “They poured gas all around the place, and one of them threw a lit cigarette over his shoulder as they left.” Blue-green eyes narrowed in suspicion as the teen was clearly avoiding something. Quit skirting around the issue, Omi.

 

“Who. Was. It.” Ken wasn't as naïve about the situation as he led everyone to believe, having seen something just before going unconscious that night. Omi's reluctance to answer was giving him more than he needed; now all he wanted was verbal confirmation.

 

“I know you already know the answer to that,” the blonde stated plainly. “Remember, I'm an empath; you may have fooled Yohji and Aya, but I've always felt your doubt.” The former J-Leaguer just looked at Omi. “Fine, you want me to say it. Kase started the fire.” There was no shocked outcry of denial to the statement. Ken didn't try to defend the man who he had once considered his best friend and lover. They both knew the identity his would-be executioner came as no surprise. The man had always just been a little too eager to help clear his `friend's' name; Ken had been suspicious of his motives almost from the day of that fated soccer match.

 

“Why didn't you say anything before now?” The brunette asked quietly. Though understood why the archer had kept his own past hidden, he couldn't figure out why Omi had never given him this particular piece of information before.

 

“Because you didn't want any of us to know,” came the reply. “You never wanted to talk about it, so I respected your privacy. I'm telling you now because you asked.” The blonde was telling truth; Ken hadn't ever wanted to talk on the subject before. Thanks, Omi. I appreciate that. And he did; that one statement, more than anything else he had heard, proved to him that the younger assassin would never betray any of them. Deciding that they had lingered on serious issues for far too long, the brunette gave a playful grin and stretched.

 

“So,” he started. “Do you think Aya and Yohji would mind too much if we didn't get back right away to help with whatever the new mission is. I'd like to sit around here for awhile and bask in the luxury of this place.”

 

“I don't see why not,” the blonde returned the look. “After all, you need time to let everything sink in before you can concentrate on anything else.” Ken let out an amused snort at that as the archer spoke on. “Nagi's back in our room doing some work, but I think we could easily convince him to take a break.” Another snort from the brunette sounded. More like he could easily convince Nagi. The blonde ignored his friend's amusement as he continued. “We've got some great games on the computers, or we can sit around and do nothing.” That last bit actually sounded pretty good; it had been a long time, relatively speaking, since any of them had done absolutely nothing.

 

“Doing nothing sounds good,” the older teen replied. “I've never seen you act your age, and I know I haven't felt like I was mine since I joined Weiss. I bet Nagi's the same way considering what you told me about him. We could get some food, watch some craptastic movies, and do all the other stuff we should have gotten to do instead of what we actually do. We can pretend we're normal teenagers, for once.” As he said that, both young assassins got wistful looks on their faces. Omi immediately relayed the plans to his boyfriend, and a few minutes later, Nagi appeared from his room, making himself comfortable next to the blonde.

 

“So you're Omi's boyfriend,” Ken stated, completely at ease. Omi seemed incredibly happy with the smaller brunette, the truly content expression on the blonde's face was something he had never seen before; it pleased him to no end that there was someone who could make his best friend smile like that. “I'm Ken. Nice to meet you.”

 

“Same here,” the telekinetic replied with a small smile. Nagi, not even really knowing the older teen, was immediately comfortable in his presence. It probably had something to do with the fact that Omi trusted him as much as he trusted the others, but it was more likely because of the one thing the three youngest assassins had in common. Their ages, in conjunction with their profession, led them to be isolated from anyone who they could otherwise relate to. There was no tension in the air as three began talking about any and everything from over-sexed teammates - read Yohji and Schuldig - to music. All in all, it was relaxing evening, the first of many to come, as the three began to forge what would eventually become an indestructible friendship.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------

 

“You're just getting back now?” Yohji raised an eyebrow at his younger teammates as they finally returned to the flower shop, just before dawn. Omi and Ken exchanged looks, not bothering to comment. If the older blonde was awake at this time of the day, then that could only mean that he, too, had only recently returned from his nightly excursion with Schuldig. Deciding he wouldn't get an explanation from them, he shook his head and asked what had been weighing on his mind since the two were last seen. “So everything's okay between you two?” Both he and Aya had been concerned as the brunette was atypically silent when they had parted company.

 

“We're fine.” Ken answered the question as he walked up the stairs to the living room, followed by the other two. “We had a long talk and then we just sat around with Nagi all night goofing off. I actually feel better about all this than I have since I joined Weiss.” The older blonde paused to take in the current state of his friends, noticing how calm they looked. And he understood exactly what Ken meant by saying feeling better about everything. What they were doing was no longer purely rooted in revenge; they were fighting for something. That didn't mean the revenge-factor wasn't still there as they all still held their grudges, but to have their actions actually mean something gave them all an odd sense of relief.

 

“I'm glad to hear that.” The ex-detective gave the teens a gentle smile before a yawn escaped his lips. “I think I'll go to bed. It's Sunday, the shop is closed, and we can't do anything with the new mission until Aya comes back.” That wasn't entirely true; there was always something that they could look into, but they would all take the statement as fact.

 

“Yeah,” Omi agreed, stifling his own yawn. “Besides, Ken and I were up all night working out our problems. The mission can wait until tonight.” Small chuckles resounded from the other two assassins as they all knew that to be a blatant lie. The three of them were soon laughing hysterically, though they didn't know why, maybe lack of sleep. This was the sight that greeted Aya as he returned from wherever he was, most likely from visiting his sister. One look told him all he needed to know: everything was fine.

 

“I don't even want to know,” his even baritone caused three heads to turn, and though the laughter died down, small giggles still sounded every so often.

 

“Probably not,” Omi agreed after he had calmed down. “Anyway, we were all just going to bed, so…” A crimson eyebrow rose in a questioning manner.

 

“You know,” Ken started. “You're getting back pretty late…um early… yourself. We could all just pretend we never saw each other and head off for some sleep.” The violet-eyed man found no problem with the suggestion and shrugged; he didn't want to deal with the mission right now any more than the others seemed to.

 

“I have no problem with that,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. “After all, Yohji and I were out all night trying to get information, and you two never officially accepted the mission.” Oh, they were all experts at rationalizing, and at the moment, not a single one of them cared in the least. The last week or so had been terribly trying, and they didn't feel the need to justify their actions to Kritiker, especially not now. If Persia didn't like it, he could find another group to do his bloody work, and that wasn't likely to happen. Calling out their `goodnights' and `pleasant dreams', the four assassins headed for their respective rooms, falling asleep as the sun rose over Tokyo.

 

 

TBC

End of chapter notes: I know I'm making all the boys seem rather heartless in this chapter with regards to Sister Ruth's demise, but well that's how I see it, especially with the change in personalities I've tried to incorporate. None of them are the same people that were in the anime or manga as they now have somewhat different back-stories. I tend to go with the whole `not everything is black and white' school of thought, and honestly, all eight of them are killers who are focused on some sort of revenge, so why wouldn't they react in such a jaded manner (and it won't just be the boys who are like this by about half-way through… take that how you will).