Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Convergence ❯ Prologue ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Convergence

Prologue

Amazing what thoughts could linger in the mind when one is about to die, Aya considered with strange calmness. His hand pressed tightly against the wound, feeling the hot flow of his blood spill over his fingers despite his admittedly half-hearted efforts to stop the bleeding. Surprisingly, the wound hurt far less than other, less serious ones he'd endured over the years. Perhaps it was shock or blood loss, or perhaps it was simply his body's way of confirming in no uncertain terms that he was indeed dying and wasn't going to waste energy with something as trivial as registering pain.

He bit back a grim smile, knowing full well that he should have seen the attack coming. He had been in the business for far too long to not have recognized just how vulnerable a position he had placed himself in. Alone in a foreign city without backup, too caught up in his thoughts and not paying attention to what was going on around him. That he had been on a busy street during the daytime would not have mattered to those behind this attack. After all, he had taken out any number of targets himself under the very same circumstances. An inadvertent bump from a stranger, in this case a child, and he did not feel the blade enter his body until it was much too late.

Ken would never have let him hear the end of it. Aya had always warned his headstrong friend about allowing himself to be distracted and now he was guilty of the very same offense. Well, he was certainly going to pay for that moment of weakness. There was a painful irony in that he had survived so much only to be brought down by a scruffy child. He tried to laugh, only to have his breath catch as the blade in his gut shifted.

Looking up, he blinked away at the snowflakes that stuck to his eyelashes, watching the people passing him by. They seemed to move by soundlessly, their movements sluggish as if he and they existed in two entirely separate worlds and he could only see them through a distant haze. Briefly, he wondered at how not a single one of them seemed to notice the injured man in their midst and at how long his body would lay there before someone finally took notice of him.

“Guten tag, kätzchen.”

The greeting ghosted into Aya's consciousness, drawing his attention almost unwillingly towards the figure striding purposefully towards him. It took a few seconds for his mind to connect the face and voice to a name in his memory. The orange-hued hair was more neatly groomed than he was familiar seeing, and he was dressed in a stylish wool coat that was a far cry from some of the outlandish outfits he had seen the other man wear in the past. But there was no mistaking the glint in the other man's blue eyes or the sardonic grin. Oh, this just capped off what was turning out to be a monumentally dismal day.

He would have thought that when he finally died, he might be greeted with the visions of the numerous people he'd killed in his life. That would have been fitting; his hands were so stained with blood. Perhaps if the kami were merciful in their judgment he might have thought to see a vision of his parents, or the beloved sister that he could never truly be a brother to again. Maybe even his old lover giving him his familiar cocky grin, for though his body still breathed, the Kudoh Yohji that he'd loved was certainly as dead as Aya would soon be.

No, instead he had to see a wise-cracking, barely sane telepath standing before him. Schuldig looked down at his bleeding form and tsked-tsked half-mockingly at the injured man. “Oh, you really got yourself into a spot this time, didn't you?” he chuckled as he knelt down to check Aya's injury. Aya watched as the amusement faded from Schuldig's face when he found the knife still in his belly.

“You do seem determined to get yourself killed,” Schuldig complained as he felt the fresh blood staining Aya's clothing. While Aya's had apparently had enough presence of mind to leave the blade in the wound, he was losing blood rapidly. Schuldig knew that he had to act quickly. Crawford had insisted that they needed Aya alive and he tended to get a bit cranky when his carefully engineered plans were thwarted.

“Go away. I don't need you here,” Aya insisted, waving his bloody hand, as if he could dispel the vision of his old tormentor. Unfortunately, the sensation of Schuldig's hand touching him erased any hope that this was merely an injury-induced hallucination. The last thing he wanted to do was to die in the presence of Schuldig. Dying alone and unnoticed, he could tolerate. But having Schuldig as his only company at the end… well, that would be a great cosmic joke at his expense.

The telepath ignored his command, snatching his own handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it over the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. Aya groaned, feeling his body shiver as the flowing blood leached the warmth from his body. Pain was reawakened as Schuldig pressed firmly on the wound, trying to hold the blade still and prevent him from bleeding out. He wanted to tell the other man not to bother, but his words were stopped when he registered the grim determination on the German man's face. Why was he trying to help him? Surely the other man was only toying with him, trying to draw out his suffering as long as possible. With what was left of his strength, he attempted to pull Schuldig's hand away, only to be calmly but firmly rebuffed.

“Hush now, kätzchen,” Schuldig ordered gently, keeping firm pressure on the wound. “Just save your strength.”

Aya blinked owlishly, his glazed eyes clearly confused by the other man's actions. After all that had passed between them in their previous encounters, he was more than a little perplexed to see what appeared to be concern on Schuldig's face. Aya had been on the receiving end of Schuldig's games too often in the past to trust him. He lurched as strongly as he could manage, trying to break free from Schuldig's grasp.

Schuldig kept a firm but gentle grip on the man, trying to keep him still. He had not truly been prepared for this, despite Crawford's warning. His teammate had ordered him to intercept the former Weiß team leader and that he might want to arrange for medical aid beforehand, but he had neglected to warn Schuldig that the situation would go to shit so quickly. He certainly had not expected Aya's condition to be so dire. Shock was doing as much to kill the swordsman as blood loss.

With his hands currently busy, he pressed his cheek against Aya's, feeling how cold and clammy the younger man's skin was. Damn it, they didn't have much time. Even though he'd for once followed Crawford's directions, he would be hard pressed to keep Aya alive until help arrived. Schuldig saw Aya's eyes glaze over as he continued to weaken and blood continued to pour from the wound despite his efforts. He knew that Aya would certainly not appreciate what he was about to do, but Aya was running out of time and he was running out of options.

He had played with Aya's mind often enough in the past to know what pathways he needed to follow. Both for the sake of his mission assignments and his own amusement, he'd often entered Aya's dreams and teased his consciousness, but it was never without great effort on his part. The younger assassin had amazingly strong mental shields for a normal human. Usually their mental encounters were a battle of wills, with Schuldig needing a moment of weakness or distress to exploit before gaining access to his opponent's mind. The ease in which he was now able to enter the other man's psyche was frightening, but Schuldig did not hesitate in taking advantage of Aya's vulnerable state.

“Sorry, liebling,” Schuldig apologized with genuine sincerity, watching Aya's eyes close and his head fall back as he was rendered safely unconscious. Hopefully with his mind no longer able to register pain, Schuldig had been able to cut off the shock that was further weakening him. Looking down upon the injured man, Schuldig wondered what would truly disturb Fujimiya more; having his life saved by a sworn enemy or being saved at all. It would be just one more thing in a long list or reasons that Aya would hate him for.

“I know that you might not appreciate this right now, but you still have work to do. Can't afford to have you dying here,” he said softly, even though he knew that Aya could not hear him. Telling himself that this was simply to help keep the other man alive, Schuldig pulled Aya's limp form against him, holding him close against the warmth of his own body.

He carefully balled up the edge of Aya's coat to press against the wound, but nothing helped as the wound stubbornly continued to bleed. It was a relief when the wail of a siren finally broke the bubble of silence around them as an ambulance and police car squealed to a halt beside them. For once he wasn't going to bitch about how smug his teammate would be at being proven right yet again. Crawford was arrogant enough in his opinion.

It took all of Schuldig's control not to fight to keep hold of Aya when the ambulance crew pulled him from his arms. With a sharp pang of regret, he stepped back to allow them to work, his eyes fixed on Aya's unconscious form. Damn, he'd lost so much blood… It was only as an afterthought that Schuldig remembered to mentally command the paramedics and police officers to ignore his presence completely. Slipping down a side street where he was able to continue keeping watch over Aya. Quickly checking his own state, he saw that his coat had been badly stained and quickly stripped it off, stuffing it into a convenient garbage dumpster. The chill winter air bit through his clothing, but Schuldig could not convince himself to leave just yet.

“Schuldig, did you reach him?”

Biting back a verbal curse at the not too subtle mental nudge, he turned his attention to the link he held with his teammate. “Ja, just like you said,” he thought back. “Now how about telling me why I needed to let this happen in the first place… I could have gotten to him sooner, you know.”

“Not now,” Crawford insisted, the tone of his thoughts warning Schuldig that there would be no room for argument. “I told you everything that you needed to know. Besides, you cold not have prevented him being injured. Fujimiya is in safe hands for the time being, so come back now. You'll have plenty of time to moon over him later.”

Schuldig bit back a growl of frustration as Crawford abruptly broke off communication. Damn imperious bastard, he thought to himself. He certainly was not going to leave until he saw Aya safely lifted into the ambulance, no matter what Crawford said. He could only stand by and watch as the paramedics as they carefully lifted Aya's limp body onto the waiting gurney, when all he wanted to do was jump to their aid. Only after the injured man had been whisked away to the hospital was Schuldig able to convince himself to head for home.

Crawford had assured him that Aya was safe for the moment and that those behind the attack would not find out immediately that they failed to kill him. Schuldig knew that he would just have to trust his old teammate's word. Besides, there was much to plan now, and more players to bring into the game before it was over.

He rubbed at the blood staining his hand, thinking about the man that it belonged and suddenly broke into a wide grin. Oh, this game was going to get very interesting, especially since he was determined to rewrite as many of the rules as possible. Crawford might be the one to see into the future, but Schuldig had always had his own talent for manipulating circumstances to suit his own wishes. He was going to make sure that for once, events would go his way. He would not tolerate his prize slipping away again.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he set off down the block, whistling a cheerful tune. Yes, perhaps things might finally be going his way for once.

TBC