Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Commissioner ❯ The Arrival ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz belongs to whoever owns it, which is not me….

 

Warning: shonen ai….. you have been warned. Oh and slight OOC (see pairings for reason)

 

Pairings: nami/Ogi, ken/schuldig, ran/OC ran/yotan (unfulfilled as of yet)

 

Summary: After the tower, everyone (almost everyone, anyway) goes their separate ways, including Aya, who has reclaimed the name Ran, and most of the personality. He's been living in Europe, and when he returns to Japan at Mamoru's request, he finds things have changed.

 

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Ran Fujimiya looked out the window of the plane that was taking him back to Japan. He really didn't want to go, but he couldn't really say no to Om-Mamoru. It was almost impossible. Besides, he was curious to see what it was like now, after so many years.

 

The `fasten seatbelts' sign popped on, and he settled further into the surprisingly comfortable seat, checking his seatbelt as the plane made ready to descend. The man beside him was snoring audibly, which would have made him quite angry at one point, but now only made him mildly annoyed. He nudged him lightly.

 

“We're about to land,” he said in French, which seemed to be the man's language. He nodded and set about moving his tray up, while Ran looked out the window again. Tokyo was displayed before him in the early morning sunshine, and he found himself sighing, missing it more even as the wheels touched down.

 

When he got off the plane and went through customs with his luggage (he'd brought some wine and chocolates for his former teammate, who still had a sweet-tooth, he imagined. Waiting at the edge of the open area in the airport was a familiar brunette. He made his way over, and his luggage got lighter, easier to carry.

 

“Naoe-san.” The young man smirked and bowed slightly.

 

“Fujimiya-san. Takatori-sama sent me to get you. Is this all of your luggage?” It took a moment for the language to insert itself; he'd spoken English and French for the last nine years.

 

“Hai.” As they reached the limo, he raised an eyebrow. “Takatori-sama?”

 

“You never know who could be watching, Fujimiya-san.”

 

“Ran.”

 

“Forgive me, Ran-kun. How have you been?” Ran could see genuine curiosity in those eyes, and smiled faintly.

 

“I've been doing fairly well. Mamoru-kun's connections have helped me greatly. What about you? And the others?”

 

“Ah, so now you want to know how everyone's doing.” A hint of bitterness tinged the sentence, and Ran winced.

 

“I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch, Naoe-san-“

 

“Nagi.”

 

“Nagi-kun. I just wanted to see what life was like Outside.” He knew that the younger man understood.

 

“And how did it feel?” He closed his eyes, thinking.

 

“I'm not sure. I think it was good for me.” The expression, what little of it there was, on Nagi's face proclaimed that opinion as fact. “The others?”

 

“Schuldig and Ken left three months ago. I think they went to Dresden. I haven't heard from them since.” The young man's eyes were shaded with a distant pain; he and Schuldig had been quite close at the end of it all.

 

“I see. And Yoji?” He almost didn't want to ask the question, to know how the blonde PI was doing.

 

“He's a detective on Mamoru's payroll, which means he doesn't have to work if he doesn't want to. Of course, he's on assignment every time we turn around.”

 

“Of course. The Berserker?” He'd never really taken the time to learn the man's name, which was understandable- the man had tried to kill him more often than the others combined, even Oracle.

 

“He went back to Ireland. The last I heard of him he was living in a one-room shack in the Irish mountains. No human contact. I'm not sure if that's best, but…” Ran was almost amazed at the change in the boy before him. Gone was the sullen, blankly angry expression, and the training was almost gone.

 

“I hope he finds what he's looking for.”

 

“Crawford-sama passed away three years ago. He was killed by- of all things- a thief. A random street mugger with a gun.”

 

“Irony at its finest. How long until we reach the House?”

 

“We should be there within the minute.” The car began to slow down, and when it stopped, the door opened, and Nagi motioned him out. He smirked and slid out, waiting for his companion. “If you'll follow me, Fujimiya-san? Takatori-sama should be in his study.”

 

They went to a large, airy room filled with flowers. A desk with clean, contemporary lines graced the center of the room, surrounded by seating of different types. Mamoru stood when they entered, waiting until the door closed to greet Ran.

 

“Aya-ku-“

 

“Ran.” Mamoru's eyes softened slightly.

 

“Ran-kun. I'm glad you came when I asked.”

 

“You never told me why I'm here.”

 

“Did you ever ask?” He snorted softly and crossed his arms.

 

“Would you two stop stalking around like a pair of panthers? Mamoru, tell him what's going on; Ran-kun, sit down and listen.” Nagi glared at both of them from his place by the window. They both did as he asked, Ran taking a plush black chair, Mamoru a matching green one.

 

“We've had a situation arise. I need you to take up that office I proposed to you nine years ago. I need a new Commissioner. My current Commissioner isn't cooperating.” Mamoru had handed Kritiker over to Manx and Birman, to continue in politics to become the youngest Prime Minister ever in Japan. He still gave input on the quasi-governmental group, of course, but his name wasn't in it anywhere. Ran knew that much from the news he'd heard from Ken when they were in touch.

 

“I have no political background. People will look into my whereabouts for the last nine years.”

 

“What have you done the last nine years?”

 

“I was… I worked in the police headquarters in Geneva. Damn it, Mamoru, you know all of this!”

 

“I know, that in nine years, you, a foreigner, was elevated to a fairly high rank before resigning when offered the post of Commandant. I'm asking you to take all of that experience and apply it to the land of your birth. For your friends. For the good of the people.” Ran sighed loudly at those words.

 

“For the good of the people? What good have the people done for us? You remember when we were hunted like dogs, Omi!”

 

“Ran-kun, you overstep your boundaries. Please, I'm simply asking you.”

 

“Fine. I accept. Whatever. I guess I can fix what's wrong. And you won't meddle!” As he said this he pointed firmly at the younger man, whose angelic expression didn't fool him for one minute.

 

“I wouldn't dream of it, Ran-kun!” the blonde said, feigning shock, then grinning at the look in Ran's eyes.

 

“I knew you when you were Bombay; don't forget that!”

 

“You knew me when I was Bombay. I am still Bombay. Don't you forget that.” Ran sighed. “However, I knew you when you were Abyssinian. And believe me, I won't forget that.” He grinned impishly then, somehow looking eighteen again, instead of the twenty-seven he was. “Are you hungry? Or should I show you to a room, so you can get over your jet-lag?”

 

“I think a meal would do me good, and a shower. I need to get back on Tokyo time.” He stood, looking down at Mamoru, who was still shorter than him despite an obvious late-life growth spurt. In a spontaneous gesture, he pulled him into a hug, wishing that he'd been open enough when they were Weiss to do that.

 

When he let go, Mamoru looked shocked, then grinned again, before putting on a carefully schooled expression of cool delight. Ran schooled his own features into the expression he'd come to call `Bow to Me.' It exuded confidence and arrogance, yet it was able to show enough amusement that he was laughing gleefully with his eyes, as they met Mamoru's.

 

“Shall we, Minister?” he asked, showing proper deference as the door opened and an aide waited to take them to a meal. They entered a small dining room, and seated themselves around the small table.

 

“So, Ran-kun, what did you do in Geneva? My sources refused to tell me anything more than that you were in the police force.”

 

“I was Secondary Commissioner. In three months I would have taken over for Herr Gobran. As it is, I suppose I am taking on a better position. Geneva was so… boring.”

 

“Indeed. I wanted to know about your personal life. But I suppose we shall speak of business. Tomorrow I'll introduce you to Parliament, relate your references. I've already declared a vote of no-confidence in Nabimu-san.”

 

“Nabimu-san? Yoshitomo Nabimu?”

 

“Yes, why?”

 

“He was a year ahead of me in University. He moved quickly once everything fell, didn't he?”

 

“Quite fast. However, I've noticed that things are happening again that shouldn't be. He's hiding information, and none of it is good. I'm pleased with Yoji's detective work in this. He did very well.”

 

“Yoji helped you gather information?”

 

“Secure, lawful channels are always best when dealing with Parliament. At least my Parliament.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“So, getting back onto my original topic, how was life in Geneva?”

 

“It was fine. I lived in one of the better parts of town- even in Geneva you had slums.”

 

“Of course. Was there anything personal you had to leave behind?” Ran closed his eyes, wishing that Mamoru wouldn't ask him that. It was too soon… the wound han't even scabbed yet.

 

“Samson Reynolds. He owns and operates a large jewelry chain. There are stores all over the world.”

 

“Yes. This is a Reynolds piece.” Nagi held up a wrist, where a substantial platinum bracelet sat, dotted with sapphires. Ran nodded.

 

“I helped to design that piece. I didn't know it was going to you, Nagi-kun.”

 

“It didn't. It went to a rather shady government official, for his mistress. She gave it to me for my birthday.” The way he said this made Ran think of the boy this man had been, and his law enforcement side shivered.

 

“Don't worry, no laws were broken. The man was found guilty of embezzlement in the bank he owned, and the woman turned the bracelet over for evidence. Once it was cleared of being bought using smuggled money, it was put up for auction. I bought it for his birthday.”

 

“Good. It feels weird to be here, thinking of laws. I need to brush up on the Code here.”

 

“We'll get to that. Eat now, then shower, then sleep. You took the red-eye from Geneva, and it's almost time to sleep here, anyway.” Ran nodded, and started to eat the good food put before him.

 

“Who's your cook?”

 

“Noriko-san has cooked for me for some years now. She's Ouka's mother. She ran a restaurant.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yes. She treats me like a child!” He laughed as he said this, before eating some more chicken.

 

“As well I should, Mamoru-kun!” the woman in question said, entering the room wearing traditional Kimono and socks. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Fujimiya-kun.”

 

“The pleasure is mine. I haven't eaten a meal so well cooked in years.”

 

“Of course not! Europe has nothing on Japan!” He laughed, surprising the men at the table, and making Noriko smile in return. “Anyway, Mamoru-kun, your detective has returned and is cleaning up. I assume you'll want to meet with him in the morning?”

 

“Yes, Noriko-san. Thank you.” She bowed slightly, and then left the room. Ran lifted an eyebrow in silent inquiry. “Yoji was out gathering information for me. He's likely exhausted, and so we won't disturb him until tomorrow. Besides, now that we have another Commissioner, he'll need to take up his post again.” The eyebrow lifted more. “He's the Chief Aide. Reluctantly taken two years ago.”

 

“Ah, so I'll be working with him?” He wasn't sure whether he was relieved to work with a familiar face, or wary for the same reason. He and Yoji hadn't had the best of conversations before he left.

 

“Yes. I hope that isn't a problem?”

 

“It shouldn't be.”

 

“So you were with Samson Reynolds,” Nagi said, breaking his concentration.

 

“Yes. I met Sam about six months after I arrived, and we were together from then on. He's the reason I refused the position of Commandant. They accept quirks in their officers, but not in someone that high in government.” His jaw locked then, making it impossible to express his anger at the system, and his sadness at leaving Sam behind.

 

As if to mock him, his cell rang, the jaunty tune he'd come to associate with Sam.

 

“Hi.” He mentally winced at how rough his voice sounded.

 

“Ran, what did I tell you about tears?” He sucked in a breath at his voice, and then closed his eyes.

 

“They solve nothing but the drought problem in Africa, and not even that.”

 

“Good. Are you okay?”

 

“Yes. Look, Sam, I'll call you back, I'm eating dinner right now.”

 

“Of course… it's nine there, right?”

 

“Almost ten, actually. Like I said, I'll call you.” He could see Sam's eyes tightening, but the other man agreed, and hung up.

 

“That was him?” Mamoru's voice was soft, as if he'd break some sort of mood. Ran coughed deliberately, giving himself a reason to cover his face for a moment.

 

“Yes, that was him. I'm not very hungry anymore. Can one of your aides show me to a room?”

 

“Of course. Naoe-kun, please summon Kenshin.” Nagi nodded and stood, pulling a phone from his pocket. In moments, the door opened to reveal an older man with gray-streaked brown hair and clear grey eyes.

 

“Minister?”

 

“Please escort Fujimiya-san to the Blue Room. See that his things are moved there as well, if they haven't already.

 

“Of course, Takatori-sama. If you would, Fujimiya-san?” The man motioned for Ran to follow him.

 

“Oh, and Kenshin?”

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

“You'll be working for Fujimiya-san for some time, so please assemble a staff for him. Leave the Chief position for Kudou.”

“Of course, Takatori-sama. I'll start tomorrow morning. Fujimiya-san?” Ran nodded, bowing to Mamoru.

 

“Thank you for this generous opportunity, Takatori-sama,” he said, conveying his gratitude through that `Bow to Me' expression he favored. Mamoru bowed in return, his eyes smiling back.

 

“Anything for you, Fujimiya-san.” Kenshin led him through various corridors, ending at a dark blue door. As the door opened, Ran was reminded sharply of Sam's parlor in Geneva. Everything was in shades of blue, immensely comfortable, but elegant at the same time. The only difference was that there were roses of varying shades occupying the decorative space of the room, and the smell was divine.

 

“Fujimiya-san?” He blinked, and realized that the servant had been speaking to him.

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

“Is everything to your liking?”

 

“In here, yes. If I need anything-“ A small remote was pressed into his hand.

 

“This is connected to my pager. If you need anything at all, please press the button, and I'll be happy to help.”

 

“Thank you, Kenshin. That's all, then.” The older man bowed, and left the room. Ran walked around the room, touching the roses, and noticed that most of them were blue. Mamoru was obviously still dabbling in the florist trade. He smiled, picking one out of a vase and moving over to his new bedroom, at least for the night. He'd have to look into getting a place of his own. It wouldn't do for the Commissioner of Police to live with the Prime Minister.

 

The bedroom was in darker shades than the parlor, the roses by the bed a pale blue, almost white. The bathroom was beautiful as well, and he found all of his toiletries unpacked, and guessed that his clothing was in the wardrobe and dresser.

 

He turned on the shower, luxuriating in the hot spray when he stepped under it. It beat down on his back, loosening the knotted muscles there, and when he was finished, he donned the robe left for him, going back into the bedroom. His cell phone sat on the bedside, where he'd left it, and after donning pajama pants, he picked it up, calling Sam.

 

“Hey, Ran! I thought you were going to…”

 

“I thought I'd call you back before I went to sleep. How're things in Geneva?”

 

“I'm doing quite well, now that you asked, but there have been a certain amount of media vultures trying to figure out where you went.”

 

“I hope you told them to shove it in your polite American way.”

 

“You bet I did. And the servants are sort of sad that you're gone.”

 

“They'll be fine. I was offered the place of Commissioner here. I'm friends with the Prime Minister, after all. I took it.”

 

“Good. You need the authority. How is your friend? He was the youngest ever to reach his position, wasn't he?”

 

“Yes, twenty-one is quite young for that. He still looks like the 18 year old I sold flowers with sometimes, though.”

 

“Yes. What color are the roses in your room?”

 

“You knew there were roses?”

 

“I told him that. Or was it the other one. Anyway, one of them emailed me to ask me how to make you comfortable.”

 

“No wonder everything's blue. Even the roses.” He gave a bittersweet smile. Now everything would definitely remind him of the man.

 

“No tears, my love. This is what's needed. You know that. And in that spirit, this will be the last time you talk to me. We'll keep up; I have your email. But I don't think either of us will be able to hear the other's voice for much longer.” Ran's smile died at that, but he knew that was what was needed.

 

“Yes. I know. Sam, I-“

 

“No. I won't hear of it. It isn't true, and we both know it. We tried to be in love with each other, but I don't think that's possible. But… I will miss you, my Rose.” Ran choked out a dry sob at the words. Over the last nine years, the two of them had shared everything… except for that small part of their hearts reserved for true love.

 

“I love you, Samson. Maybe not in the way I wish, but it… It would have been enough.”

 

“But now it isn't. Find your love, Ran. I'll always be your best friend.”

 

“And I'll be yours. I…”

 

“Go to sleep, Ran. You need it. I expect you to sent me an update on your job.”

 

“I will. Goodbye.” He hung up, dropping the phone onto the bedside again, before turning the covers down and crawling between them, wishing for the first time in years that Aya was there to help. She would hug him, and then she would force him to go on. But she wasn't there, and Sam was gone now, too. He fell asleep with tears on his cheeks.

 

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Ano, I know this isn't the best of starts, but everything has to have a beginning.

 

Reviews are food of the writers, you know, and I've been starving lately on everything. Please, give me something that knows I'm not writing for no one.

 

Ja ne, minna-san!