Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Demon Angelic- rewrite ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

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

Disclaimer: I don't own the men of Schwarz or Weiss and will make absolutely no profit off of the events that take place within the framework of this story. All recognizable characters belong to their creators and FunAnimation.

+Chapter Three+

The sound of stealthy footsteps alerted me to the presence of an early morning intruder in my room. I continued to feign sleep until the last possible moment. When a shadow fell across my bed, I hurled the rather hefty volume of poetry I had been cradling all night at the figure and threw myself off the opposite side of the mattress, thankful that I had not thrashed in my sleep and tangled the sheets around myself. I scrabbled for the studded belt that I remembered buying at HOT TOPIC and wound it around my fist before slinking low around the edge of the bed.

“Can ya read English or do ya just like ta look at the pictures?”

Luckily, the halting, strangely accented Japanese alerted me to Farfarello's identity before I did anything rash or uncouth, like clobber him over the head with a metal encrusted piece of cowhide. “What are you doing in my room,” taking in his appearance I hastily added, “and why don't you have on a shirt?” No time like the present to establish some boundaries.

“Ah came ta get muh shirt from ya. Now, can ya read English or not?” His face was passive, even though his voice was a little heated. He seemed stable enough.

“Hai,” I replied simply, dropping my belt to the floor and digging through the bags to find his shirt. I was trying my best to keep my gaze averted and not stare at the nipple ring hanging from his right pectoral. Funny, I hadn't noticed it yesterday through the mesh.

“So, ya can read English, but can ya speak it as well?” Finally dragging the correct shirt from the bag, I tossed it at him. He caught it without taking his eyes off my now direct gaze.

“Hai…” I answered in my native tongue without thinking. He frowned at me and tossed the poetry book onto my bed to have both hands free to pull the shirt over his head. “I mean `yes',” the foreign words sounded strange in my ears and writhed on the tip of my tongue. I hadn't spoken English with anyone in several years.

His only reply was a soft grunt from deep within the folds of fabric, before his head emerged and he spoke in the richly accented brogue that I had faintly heard outside the bathroom door my first night on the premises. “So, ya know some simple words. Read me a poem from that book, girl.”

“Hai, do you have one you would like me to read for you?” I asked, sticking to Japanese for the time being.

“Ah dunna care, pick one,” he seated himself on the edge of my bed without so much as a `do you mind' and slid the book over the comforter toward me.

Snatching the volume and putting a safe distance between myself and my visitor, I turned to the index and found the poem Nagi had recommended. Flipping to the indicated page, I cleared my throat and began reading in lightly accented English, “'Invictus'/ By William Ernest Henley/ Out of the night that covers me,/ Black as the Pit from pole to pole,/ I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul./ In the fell clutch of circumstance/ I have not winced nor cried aloud./ Under the bludgeoning of chance/ My head is bloody, but unbowed./ Beyond this place of wrath and tears/ Looms yet the menace of the years finds and shall find me, unafraid./ It matters not how straight the gate,/ How charged with punishments the scroll,/ I am the master of my fate,/ I am the captain of my soul.”

When I looked up from the page, he was staring at me as if I had just sprouted another head. It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke again in his lilting English, “Are any of us truly the masters of our fate?”

What an odd person. “I believe we are…” I saw the blow coming but could do nothing to avoid it. The boy was fast. In less than a second, he had cleared the space between us and backhanded me soundly across my already bruised cheek, before wrapping his hands around my throat and squeezing painfully.

“Do ya still believe that? Are ya the master here? Do ya have any control at all over what is done here at this moment?” His expression and tone had not changed from the passive façade he had worn into my room. I stiffened, but did not offer any further resistance. His breath was warm on my face as he leaned in to continue his “lesson,” for there is nothing else an experience like this can be called. Too bad for him that I am something of a teacher myself. Stilling my mind, I eased away into a void. The shining brightness with only the soft buzzing of static to offer distraction engulfed me, insulating my soul. A startling surge of energy coursed through my body and into his grasping fingers. I came back to reality when I heard a strangled moan and felt his fingers flex around my aching neck. His chin was nearly resting on my shoulder… I felt a stronger surge pulse through me just before I wrapped my hands around his wrists. It felt as though thousands of small fish were gnawing at my heart. Not knowing what else to do, I pushed the feeling out, away from my center… down my arms and into my fingertips. Farfarello lurched wildly, throwing himself away from me and into the chest of drawers with a crash.

The next thing I heard was the pounding of running feet coming from both ends of the hall. Nagi was the first to arrive, barreling through the door and tripping over the still startled Irishman. Crawford and Schuldig arrived moments later, pulling up short in the doorway. “What is going on here?” Crawford demanded looking from the two prone boys to me.

“Electrocuted me--” Farf muttered softly in German of all things, pushing Nagi off his lap and clambering to his feet.

“I will not tolerate fighting in this house. You are not to use your abilities on your teammates in anger,” the American stated firmly.

“But, I don't ….” I began only to be cut off.

“This is your only warning, Uotani. If you attack another member of this team, you will be dealt with severely.” As if that settled everything, he turned to level his gaze at my assailant who was making his way to the door of my room, “And what were you doing in her room?”

“Ah came ta get muh shirt,” the white haired man replied, turning to point at the message printed in tilted, oozing red letters across the front.

“Appropriate,” the older man snorted, dismissing the boy with a wave. “Now,” great my turn again, “you will join us in training today and accompany us on our mission tonight. We will have no more incidents with you, I trust.” It wasn't a question.

I shot a quickly, covert glance to the telepath by the door. No, we wouldn't. “A mission?”

“A simple matter, guard duty for Takatori's party.” This elicited an audible groan from Nagi and upped the sex amperes of the German's smirk. “I assume you bought formal attire while we were at the mall yesterday?”

“Well, not per say, but I can …”

“Never mind, I will arrange for everything. Go prepare yourself, we leave for the firing range in twenty minutes,” he brushed past the red-head and quit my room without another word to anyone.

I started as warm fingers brushed my neck. I swung my arm to ward off any further contact. When I turned to Nagi, he was looking worriedly into my face, “I'm all right…” He did not look convinced, nor did he step out of the personal space that he was invading, “really.”

“Don't you two make a pretty picture? Only thing that would make it better is me, sandwiched between the both of you na…”

“Geh zur Holle, Schuldig,” I bit off each word angrily, reveling in the guttural growl of the German tongue.

The youth's smirk widened, before he replied in his nasally Japanese, “Being denied the shared experience of my little bishounen with his lovely new plaything is hell enough for me.” With that he was gone as if he had vanished. Neither member of my audience had seemed surprised that I knew enough German to condemn the telepath.

Choosing to ignore the implications of his parting shot, I walked toward my bed and began to rummage around in the pile of bags around the floor. I selected a plain white baby-tee and red cargo pants, before straightening to find Nagi still hovering around my desk looking at me rather strangely, “What is the matter?”

“What did Farf do to you? What did he mean when he said you electrocuted him?”

“He came in to get the shirt like he said, but then he asked me if I could speak and read English. So, I read him the poem you told me about and then he went all weird and tried to strangle me. He was raving on about control and it freaked me out.”

He nodded expectantly when I paused for a moment.

“Well, I didn't know what to do, so I just froze. Until I felt this tingling, I pushed the feeling away and it zapped him. Then, all of you came to the rescue and you know the rest. End of story.”

He looked a little confused, “When you say you pushed the feeling away, what exactly do you mean?”

“Well, I made it go somewhere else. It wasn't a directed thought; I just knew I didn't want that feeling anymore so I pushed it out.”

“Can you do that anytime you want?”

“I'm not sure. I have felt it before, but that was a long time ago.” I pushed the unease that the admission gave me away and fidgeted with the bundle of clothes pointedly. “Nagi, I need to get changed, we have to leave in about five minutes…” I trailed off and soon enough he got the picture. He bowed his way out of the room still looking rather confused. He wasn't the only one.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

Practice at the shooting range was quite an ordeal, I detest guns. Crawford is more pragmatic than I am. He wants all of us to be able to use a gun at least as backup; I suppose it sounds reasonable.

I was surprised to see that the blade wielding Farfarello was actually a decent shot. Of course, Schu and Crawford prided themselves on their marksmanship. However Nagi just seemed to waste bullets. “Why do I need to use a gun when dropping a semi on someone is just as effective and so much more interesting?”

He makes a pretty good, if sadistic, point.

When my turn finally came, I proved just how inept I was at marksmanship. I aimed the 9 mm Beretta Schuldig had lent me and fired the clip empty. I missed the target completely the first three shots and winged it in an erratic pattern with the next nine.

“You are truly pathetic…” Nagi grinned, shaking his head.

Crawford was far less tolerant.

“Are you blind?”

“No, I just have never fired a gun before… that's all,” I don't know why my voice sounded so soft. I had meant it to come out more vehemently, even at the risk of sounding like that whiney German bastard.

“Here is a fresh clip. Load it like Schuldig showed you,” I hit the release catch on the gun, letting the empty clip clatter to the ground before ramming the full one home and chambering the first round using the slide. “Think of the gun as an extension of your hand. It is a finger, pointing at the target.”

I did as I was told and squeezed off a round. My miss resulted in a barely suppressed growl and the sudden and overwhelming invasion of my personal space. Crawford had come up behind me wrapping his much larger frame around mine, the heat of his body was smothering and I could feel my chest begin to tighten as he placed his hands on my wrists intent on steadying the gun. I struggled without meaning to, my breath coming in frantic gasps. I was hyperventilating and all I could hear was Nagi's voice urging Crawford to let me go.

“No, she has to learn…”the rest was lost on me. I jerked violently only to feel his left hand drop from my arm and wrap securely around my hip, pulling me back into him. The gun fell from my hand as I heard myself scream and my restraint was gone. The man behind me is not Crawford. Nagi, Schu and Farf do not exist for me in this dark cold place that my mind has gone. All that is left is pain, fear, rage and that niggling burn of energy flowing through my veins- scorching my blood. Warm lips pressed over my mouth to muffle my screams and I felt a set of slender, sparsely muscled arms come about my neck. In that moment the energy that was burning me, consuming me was released, thrust into the two memory darkened figures accosting me. ::Hikari!!!!!!!!:: That is not me, but it is….. my terrified mind echoed with the shouted word.

The chorus of four voices, shrieking in agony, raped my ears as my mind finally cleared. I am ashamed to admit that one of those voices was my own… The other three belonged to my now writhing male companions. Crawford was slumped on his knees behind me, still clutching onto my upper arms as though I was his only lifeline. The German was cradled in the unaffected Farfarello's arms, holding his head and now moaning my name softly, his eyes scrunched closed. The most heartbreaking sight was Nagi's twitching form huddled at my feet. I wrenched away from the older gaijin behind me and knelt to check on the boy I was beginning to tentatively consider a friend.

He pulled away from my touch in alarm, before meeting my gaze, “What the hell are you?” The question was whispered, but that didn't alleviate any of the pain it caused me.

“I …….. don't know.” I had no better answer for him than that. “Are you all right? I didn't mean to ……” I reach out to him again and he caught my hand centimeters from his face in an invisible grip.

“I'm okay. Please, don't touch me again for awhile.”

Seeing blatant distrust in his eyes for the first time nearly broke me. “I'm sorry.” I know it will never be enough to make up for what I did to you or them…

“Crawford-san, Schu, are you both still alive?” He still hadn't taken his eyes off of me, like I was some predator he was worried would spring at him when least expected.

“Fine,” was our fearless leader's curt reply as he heaved himself from the ground, brushing off the seat of his khaki slacks, “Schuldig?”

“He'll live… What is that ya did ta them, girl?” Farf asked, his amber eye searching my face as if the answer should be tattooed on my forehead.

“I…. had that feeling again, only it was bigger than before….” I just couldn't bring myself to dredge up the past. I already feared that the telepath had seen far more than I knew myself. How could I survive if my feeling of dread were confirmed and made common knowledge?

“What a rush…” saved by a now fully aware Schuldig. ::You have serious issues, kid. We could make raucous music together one of these days.::

::The day flights of angels bring you to your rest and hoards of devils weep at your passing.:: It was the first time I had ever tried to carry on a mental conversation with Schu, but I suppose he heard me because he actually smiled. A real smile this time, not one of his patent smirks.

::That day will never come, Liebe.:: he husked, his mental voice washing over my brain in warm waves. “It is a good thing we had the range reserved for the day… would have made on hell of a disturbance, ne?” he said aloud, holding onto his protector's shoulder as he was levered to his feet.

“Crawford,” I do not have to try to be meek, I just simply am, “I apologize for hurting all of you. I should have more control of myself than that. I…”

“It is not entirely your fault,” he stopped a moment before going on, “but you will have to overcome this aversion to physical contact. In our line of work, we don't always have the luxury of isolation. I can only guess at what has happened to you before you came into our care, but you cannot let the past interfere with your functions here.” He was regarding me quietly. I suddenly felt a little less penitent and much angrier; I had no functions for Eszet... I chose to ignore him for the time being and retrieved the gun from the ground, cradling its weight in my palm. I admired it for a moment, soul-less implement of death, how easy that would be. I glanced away as the realization that I was being stared at struck.

Farfarello had drawn close to me while I was distracted, “If ya do anything ta hurt Nagi again, Ah will make ya regret it.” With that he stalked off in the direction of the crude bull's eye he had been using to practice with his knives while awaiting his turn on the draw.

The remainder of the day was spent between the gym for some endurance training and sparring matches with Schuldig and Farfarello, never both at one time thankfully. I was feeling drained after the incident at the shooting range, it had been a damning experience. All my life I had dealt with what I had considered an unnatural affinity for electricity. I chalked it up to carrying an unusually high level of static charge, now I was finding out it was decidedly more than that. When I was younger, I remember sparking a dog's tail on fire when I reached to pat him, but bizarre things like that happen, right?

I was discouraged when I caught sight of myself in the mirror at the gym. I looked haggard, the bruises on my face had not been as livid as I had expected, but they were still a purplish pink in color. Hopefully, they will fade soon. I still had trouble catching sight of my face out in public, seeing it clearly reflected beside other countenances. During my time in the Yakuza, I could never be around anyone, but the Klan head, if he so ordered it, without wearing the mask, a sign of my life's station. In seven years, he had allowed me to remove the mask once in his presence… only to berate my arrogance and backhand me viciously across the mouth. It didn't matter… it had been a pebble in the pond compared to his larger offenses.

At five, we returned to the Schwarz house to shower and prepare for our evening duty. I spent about an hour putting my room straight, storing my clothes and placing toiletries in their new homes before seeing to putting myself to rights. Today had been pretty traumatic for me and my night was looking anywhere but up. Pushing my fears aside, I scrubbed the grime from my skin and turned the water off.

I was just stepping out of the shower when a knock sounded on my bedroom door. Pulling on my new, fuzzy purple bathrobe and continuing to towel dry my hair, I went to answer the door. Before me stood Nagi and a blue-haired girl I had never seen before. She was several inches shorter than me, but her hair nearly made up for the difference. Nagi looked placid, extending the large box he held in his arms, before introducing his companion, “This is Tot-kun, a member of Schrient, another team employed by the Takatori Corporation.” The girl elicited an excited squeal before glomping onto his arm. “She is here to help you get ready for dinner.” I could see the expression unraveling around the edges and hear the soft exhalation of breath as Tot released his arm and sashayed into my room. With a hurried bow, Nagi fled.

Closing the door, I turned to the girl who was wandering around aimlessly and took a moment to look her over. She must be about my age, but she was dressed like a young child in a fluffy yellow dress with white Mary Janes strapped to her diminutive feet. When she turned, I notice the almost babyish roundness of her face and had to stifle a giggle. She was cute as a button with her rounded nose and huge, heavily fringed brown eyes. Then she spoke and shattered the illusion, “Look here, girlie, lets get one thing straight, Nagi is mine. I saw those goo-goo eyes you were making at him and if you try anything I will knock your block off.” Her voice was annoying.

“No arguments here,” I replied, unimpressed with her forthrightness. I squashed a smile as a look of utter consternation screwed her cute little face into something hideous.

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. Nagi is yours. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to get ready.” I turned my back to her and opened the package that had been thrust into my hands before the much desired youth turned tail and ran. I had expected to find something similar to Tot's outfit in the box, bright, girlish and positively repulsive. However, I was pleasantly surprised when I pushed back the tissue paper and found a beautiful Mandarin style, sleeveless evening gown. It was a rich, black satin with red piping and red silk ties at the shoulder.

“You look surprised,” Tot remarked stiffly, coming to sit on the edge of my bed.

“How did you know what to buy?”

“Crawford-san called and talked to my older sister, Hel, he said that you were into all that black, Goth stuff like Nagi-kun is,” her voice lost a little of its edge as she spoke the boy's name. “Well, what are you waiting for, try it on. We still have to get your hair done and cover up some of those marks on your face. Luckily, I'm pretty good at stage makeup.”

Deciding to let that one pass, I trotted into the bathroom to get ready.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

After depositing Tot into the unsuspecting Hikari's room, Nagi had careened across the hall and into the only safe haven with that annoying snot around…Farf's room. The girl was absolutely terrified of Farfarello which Nagi knew was all fine and well with his friend since the sight of that airhead made him sadistically twitchy.

The Irishman was in the process of changing into his white business suit when his youngest comrade burst through the door with uncharacteristic abruptness. “Ah take it the wee banshee is here?” He finished fastening his trousers before turning to quirk an eyebrow at the panting boy.

“Unfortunately… She came to help Hikari-chan,” he stated before ambling over and throwing himself on his friend's narrow bed. He noticed the other boy stiffen slightly at the mention of her name, but attributed it to the rather electrifying events of the morning.

“The wee harlots should get along just fine.”

“How many of those blue pills did you take today, if you don't mind my asking,” Nagi asked idly.

Counting on his fingers, Farfarello replied, “Eight over the last ten hours. Crawford wants me on muh best behavior tonight,” not bothering to hide the sneer in his voice, he continued, “Ah hate the bitch, but she has strength even though she is delusional.”

“And?” Nagi sat up to watch as the other finished buttoning his shirt and tucking it in.

“She read a poem ta me earlier… she thinks we have control over our own lives- yet, she plainly has never had any freedom ta speak of. She was born a Yakuza lapdog, and now she is tethered ta Eszet. We have no delusions left about our state of affairs.”

Nagi shook his head in affirmation. They were assassins, some of Eszet's finest preternatural killers. That was their lot in life and as long as it kept him off the streets, it made no difference who he served. As for Farfarello, Eszet `hurt God'.

“But the shatterin' of her illusions will hurt God,” Farfarello replied, as if he had read his teammate's thoughts.

“How do you intend to accomplish that? Eszet would punish us all if we break her beyond…”

“Ah'm not suggesting we utterly destroy her… just tarnish her a little. She'll fit in more easily then.”

The tacit agreement of the boys' exchanged was sinister.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

“There now, your face looks much better,” Tot smiled brightly, still trying to blend the salmon eye shadow into the creases of my eyelids. The makeup had been the most tedious thing. But having the girl wrap my hair in an intricate design around the crown of my skull and skewer my scalp with bobby pin after bobby pin had by far been the most painful ordeal of the night. “Now for the shoes…”

I had to hold her hand in order to step into the satin covered, three inch mule heels. I had a little trouble crisscrossing the ribbon style laces up my legs, but finally got them tied tight enough to be comfortable without any further assistance from my giddy companion. Thank you very much!

“Crawford-san also sent this coat. She held up a red, leather trench that had an intricate dragon painted across the back in tones of silver and black. I guess you can never really forget who you are. “It's kinda warm out tonight though, so you may just want to carry it down. Other than that you are ready to go.” She strode over to my bed, slung the coat onto the white comforter and dug around in her bag for a minute before producing a small hand mirror and extending it to me.

Taking it, I looked at the woman reflected back at me. Is that really me? My eyes were elegantly lined and the shadow really made the color pop. My lips were slicked with a faintly tinted, flavored gloss. The taste of the gloss made me wonder suddenly who had kissed me earlier. Shaking the sudden distraction away, I smiled over at Tot, “Thank you… for your help tonight. I really appreciate it.” It wasn't a lie; the girl really was a miracle worker. I couldn't see any trace of the bruises that I knew resided under the mask of cosmetics.

“I'm glad someone applauds my talents,” she nearly crowed, only to have her expression dim before asking, “Hikari, did you really mean what you said about Nagi-kun?”

“Tot, it's not up to either one of us who Nagi belongs to. It's up to Nagi and no amount of fighting you or I do will change that. Really, it would probably only push him away.”

She was silent a moment, before her 100 watt smile returned and she bounded over to take my arm. I fought the urge to push her away and actually won. “Schu just screeched for us to get a move on. So, let's go show off my handiwork.”

I hadn't heard anything, but then again the German probably had reserved his mental equivalent of an air horn blast just for Tot. I had the feeling that none of my male teammates cared much for the girl who barely allowed me enough time to switch off my light before dragging me bodily down the hallway.

Tot ran down the stairs to unnecessarily herald my entrance. It was probably a good thing too since I had a little trouble navigating the stairs with the heels. I heard her overly loud voice proclaiming, “And now an original masterpiece courtesy of Totz Creations…”

Humoring her, only by the grace of a sturdy handrail, I arrived on cue. I suppose the reactions should have been encouraging, but I'm not entirely sure. Nagi shattered the mug of tea he was holding, scalding himself and drenching the leg of Schu's slacks which caused the German to curse hotly in his native tongue. Crawford had given me a ghost of a smile and congratulated the Schrient girl on a tough job well done. Farfarello was suspiciously absent.

I soon discovered where he was when ghostly limbs stood out in stock relief against the darkness of my gown as he locked his arms around my waist from behind. I could hear the unbidden voices begin to stir in my soul, but they were drowned out by a hissing whisper in my ear, “Ya shock me again, girl, and Ah'll cut yer heart out.” As quickly as he had ensnared me, my captor let me gently back down to the floor and stepped out of arm's reach. He was learning quicker than I could have hoped.

“Hikari, are you okay? You look really pale all of a sudden,” Tot was drawing close to me, but luckily she didn't offer to touch me.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, I forced myself to focus on her instead of the smirking boy now reclined on the couch, thoroughly enjoying the endorphin rush he had caused. “I'm fine, just startled is all.” She seemed satisfied with that and trotted off to help her `Nagikins' tend his scalded fingers. I fully relinquished the staircase to a still fuming Schuldig as he stormed to his room to change into another pair of slacks. That's when I noticed that all of my male companions were dressed in identical white suits. I suddenly felt out of place.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

An hour later found us at the Takatori Towers, minus Tot who had to return to her father's home for the night. I had been given strict orders to mingle, get a feel for the room and then spend the rest of the night observing what my teammates did. Oh, and to keep as far away from Takatori-san as possible. The last order was blithely followed; the former was a little harder. I have never been good with large crowds, so I found myself sneaking out for a breath of fresh air every hour or so. No big deal really, I just let Schu know where I was going and then went… funny how he of all of them seemed to understand. Strange how easy he was to get along with after I had nearly fried him. Too bad I still feel I owe him after the incident in the parking garage.

The second story balcony of the Takatori manor offered a breathtaking view of the moon drenched gardens. I was enjoying the light breeze and muted strains of classical music when, by the sound of it, two very drunk people blundered onto the scene. I was turning from the railing, intent on reentering the mansion when a rough hand landed on my still bruised left shoulder. I repressed a hiss, allowing the man to pull me around to face him. “I been lukin' fer ya all night, lil' doll,” he slurred, sending a puff of rancid breath into my face.

I abhor the taste and scent of alcohol. “I'm sorry gentlemen,” I said, nodding slightly toward his friend, “But I'm with someone.” I made to push past them, but the hand on my shoulder clamped down even harder.

“Yeah, with us.”

I was determined not to let things get out of control. I was here on assignment and there was no threat to my charge, no need for unnecessary violence, right? I reached up, intending to remove his hand from my shoulder and felt another, larger hand close over my wrist. This was going downhill fast. The second man was smoking a cigarette; I wondered at the limits of my new found `talent'. I closed my eyes for a split second, waiting for the irritating nibble of unseen fish. When the feeling surged around my heart, I smiled with relief, flinging a thought at the glowing tip. The entire cylinder burst into flame; the man squealed spitting the fireball onto the stone floor of the terrace. Using the distraction to my advantage, I plucked the first drunk's hand from my satin-clad shoulder and stepped around the two. I made a hasty rush for the door only to be caught less than two feet away by a powerful set of hands clamping onto my hips and yanking me off my feet.

“Put her down,” a familiar voice floated out of the dark recesses at the far side of the balcony.

My would-be assailant looked around in a panicked daze, “Who said that?”

The kage warrior parted the curtains of the night with his white clad frame. I watched in awe as a slow, menacing smile spread across his usually expressionless lips. “Ah'm no one of consequence; now release her.” Farfarello slipped a knife out of his jacket sleeve and lifted it to glimmer in the moonlight. I was gently placed on the ground and graciously accepted my rescuer's outstretched left hand. Despite the fact that Farf looks as thought he is sculpted from alabaster, I found his skin to be quite warm, just a little rough with calluses. The contact sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. “Now, ya two would do well ta return ta the party…”

The two stragglers needed no further suggestions. They tripped and stumbled over themselves to follow the white-haired man's order. As soon as the snootfulls were out of sight, Farfarello slide the knife back into its hidden sheath somewhere in his coat sleeve and dropped my hand. I felt surprisingly disappointed at the loss of contact. Must be the adrenaline rush playing tricks on me.

“Nice parlor trick ya pulled.”

“Pushed, actually.”

“Whatever. Why dinna ya just burn the bastard's face off? Woulda saved meh some trouble.”

“I didn't want to kill him, just get him away from me.”

Farfarello hadn't once looked in my direction, just kept staring out at the darkness. “Ya're a fool…”

“Perhaps, but you won't be the one I apologize to for that particular character flaw.”

“Here,” he thrust a solid, silver wrist band at me, “take it. It has a small, retractable blade in it. The release is in the clasp.”

I hesitate only for a moment, before accepting the `gift'.

“Now, get inside and stay out of trouble, worthless girl.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++

Farfarello watched the girl slide the wristband on her arm over the healing criss-crossed scabs left behind by the wires, check the release mechanism on the clasp and then move off in the direction of the lighted entryway. He shook his head disgustedly; the girl really was too innocent, despite her blood-bathed past, to be near him or his teammates. He hadn't realized he was staring after her until a nasal whisper ghosted vodka-tinted breath against his ear, “Nice view, ne, Farfie?”

The shorter boy swiveled his head to take in the sight of his leering teammate. “Be better if it were drenched in blood.”

“Then, why did you come to her rescue? She would have eventually spilled their blood. All they would have need do is ….this.” The taller German wrenched his Irish teammate's head around and pressed alcohol-heated lips against his mouth, worming his tongue between them as the boy let out an involuntary gasp. Seconds later the red-head jerked away, hissing in pain, a hand clamped over his mouth. When he glanced down, the hand was coated with a thin layer of blood as he had expected. “You're really sexy when you're aggressive, Far-fellow,” he husked playfully, turning toward the railing to spit blood off into the grass.

“Don't press yer luck, German. One day Ah might just take ya up on yer offer. Ye're still innocent enough ta make the angel's weep…” without a backward glance the youth strode on silent feet into the light and sound of the manor.

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Besides the episode on the balcony, the night was pretty uneventful. From what I could see a good portion of Schwarz time was spent either fending off rich, married women with roving eyes or pretending to be enraptured by the ceaseless political dribble debated by knots of men well past their prime. Nagi seemed to spend most of his time hiding from Takatori's teenage daughter Oauka and sneaking the occasional glass of champagne. During one of his circuits, the unfortunate boy happened to literally run into her. Lucky for him I was feeling rather charitable. “Pardon me, miss,” I interrupted stepping up to them and bowing politely, “Nagi, Crawford needs to speak with you.”

“Couldn't it wait,” the dark-haired twit asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

“I'm afraid not, Crawford was rather insistent, miss.”

Grimacing slightly, no doubt for effect, Nagi gave a shallow bow to the girl before wandering off to “locate the boss”. When I attempted to do the same, the doe-eyed girl stopped me with a hand on my arm. “I'm sorry… I don't think I've met you before.”

“I'm an associate of Nagi's. My name is Uotani Hikari, Takatori-san,” I replied evenly, staring pointedly at her hand until she removed the offending extremity from my person. “Good evening.”

I turned to go only to be halted by her next attempt at conversation, “An associate, huh? So how exactly do you associate with Nagi-kun?” She had placed more emphasis on the word than was necessary. What is it with chicks and Nagi? He seems to have his own Shi-ne, glomp fan club and all the members are absolute freaks!

Fixing a sultry smirk on my face, I sashayed up to her, leaving only a scant few inches between us before husking, “Let's just say this, the boy has talented hands.” The crease that appeared in the center of her forehead heralded her childish anger, moments before she stamped her foot and stalked away. Across the room, I caught Schuldig's amused smirk and the flick of two fingers in salute. Guess I wasn't the only one who enjoyed that. It was no lie that Nagi was good with his hands-- as far as computers were concerned anyway, I reflected with a wicked grin.

Several hours later finally saw us pulling into the drive of our own house and toeing, if you apply the term loosely, our shoes off at the threshold. The night after my brief introduction to Oauka had been absolutely dull. It had taken two hours to see all the guests out and secure the premises before we were dismissed. Now, that we were home, all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and hibernate.

:: I bet the bishounen would disagree with that sentiment entirely.::

I shivered visibly. Why the hell couldn't he let my stupid comment earlier go?

::Chills of anticipation! I hear our Nagi also has a very talented mouth, or so I've heard…::

::After all you've seen today, you still taunt me? Are you a sado-masochist or something?::

:: I approach pain like a connoisseur of fine wine… it is a delicacy to be sampled, savored and shared around.::

::YOU DISGUST ME!!!!! STAY OUT OF MY HEAD!!!!:: I smiled sweetly in his direction as he winced. If the others were aware of our exchange, they weren't letting on. The smile faded as Nagi stepped past me heading for the stairs, I had shared a few words with him during the course of the evening, but I still had the feeling that he was upset about earlier.

Farfarello shouldered past me, unnecessarily for there was an entire living room he could have utilized in his passage. :: Remember, girl, if you hurt Nagi I will make you regret it; Eszet and Crawford be damned.:: The thought was scalding as it rampaged across my brain.

Deciding there was nothing I could really do, short of smother the lunatic in his sleep; I shrugged it off and wandered into the kitchen to scavenge for food. It hadn't occurred to me that I was hungry until after we had left the manor. I found a relatively unbruised apple in one of the bottom drawers of the refrigerator and set about making some tea. Two cups later, the soft clearing of a throat from the doorway announced my pseudo-guardian's presence before he actually entered the room.

“Why aren't you in bed yet?” his voice was a quiet rumble.

“I'm not tired,” I refused to look up at him. I had enough on my mind without adding his displeasure to it. Ignoring him pointedly, I bit into my apple and chewed slowly. I had hurt him as well as the other men of his team this afternoon. I felt badly about it, knew I needed to work on the whole human contact thing and didn't have a clue how to start. It has been so long since I had anyone I could even begin to trust. And these men weren't exactly the type to rely on, too many hidden motives.

“The faster you adjust; the better off you'll be here.” Crawford approached my chair, tall glass of milk in hand.

“Why won't you just let me go? I'm no good to you.”

“Not yet, but you will be.”

“And if I refuse?” My voice was starting to rise, even though his tone was still mild.

“We will deal with that eventuality when it arises.” He seemed rather smug, with good reason I suppose, considering he has a telepath that can reduce me to a slavering invalid without breaking a sweat.

“I won't just follow blindly you know.”

“I'm counting on it.” With that he strode away, leaving me to dwell on what exactly he meant and whether or not I should mend what bridges I could before I made my next ploy for freedom.

Finishing the apple quickly, I made my way to my room and showered. The water was soothing, lulling me into a staid sense of security. I had made up my mind not long after entering the stall that I would talk to Nagi before I slept. I needed at least one port in the storm so to speak and if I had to cast my lot with one of these psychos then he seemed the most logical choice. He was already amiable enough and far more stable than the others. Besides, I sort of liked him, as a person. Cutting the water off, I toweled off and dressed quickly. It was already late, nearly three in the morning. I needed to hurry if I was going to catch him before he fell asleep.

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Nagi lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts circled the events of the afternoon. The jolt of being electrocuted and the harsh reaction he had to it. It wasn't far off from the way his own mother had reacted when she found out he was a freak. Realizing that he was no better than that narrow-minded slut bothered him. She hadn't understood what he was, how valuable his talent, it was almost forgivable—he, however, didn't have the same excuse. The soft knock and sudden spear of light that lanced across his ceiling and crept over his bed interrupted his train of thought.

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I rapped lightly on Nagi's door, and waited a moment for a response. The knob twisted in my hand from the inside and the door creaked as it swung inward.

“Hikari-chan?” his voice issued from the darkened threshold.

“Yes, sorry if I woke you,” I decided to wait until formally invited to sojourn further into the room.

“I was already awake.”

I jumped a little as he switched his bedside lamp on. The sudden presence of white light forced the darkness to the fringes of the room, keeping the shadows of everyday objects at bay and brought his still meticulously neat form into view. He appeared to be wide awake, his hair was still perfectly flat against his head and his black pajamas were relatively wrinkle-free and shiny? They must be made of silk. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.”

Nagi's dark eyes were watching me intently, I felt so uncomfortable. “Look …” I trailed off not sure how to go about this. Before I could say anything else, he began to speak.

“I know I was a real bastard to you today at the range and since then I've been kinda standoffish, but do you think maybe we could start over again?” His head dropped, hiding his face and his own discomfort.

I couldn't believe it. “I'm the one who should be apologizing to you…”

He continued on as if he hadn't heard a word I just said, “I don't expect you to forgive me or anything, but I really would like to be friends with you…”

“But you have nothing to be forgiven for…” I moved toward the bed on naked cat feet.

“I know how hard it can be not being able to control your powers, and I just want you to know I'll be glad to help in any way I can, for the good of everyone involved, of course…” he kept his head bowed even as he finished speaking.

I sat down beside him, leaned over and tilted my head so I could look up at an angle into his bang-veiled face.
“I am the one who should be apologizing…” his eyes were a beautiful shade of blue in the warm glow of the lamplight, “I hurt you because I… have a few demons lurking around inside my head. I lost my grip on reality, and I wasn't strong enough to regain control on my own. There is nothing for you to be forgiven for…”

“I kissed you without your permission. I was only trying to bring you back from wherever it was you had gone, but I…” he raised his head slowly, bringing my gaze up with him, his expression was solemn, but oddly animated.

“I forgive you… for being worried about me. Does that make any sense to you?”

“In a way… Farfarello always says that people like us are unworthy of any real emotion. I suppose I'm just jaded enough to buy that,” I searched his eyes, tried to burrow deep inside his soul, and found a tiny spark of hope hidden in the hollow void. I must have made him uncomfortable after awhile, because he laid back and closed his eyes for a moment.

“I don't.”

His eyes fluttered open, regarding me solemnly.

“Life beats us down and we lose our selves. Doesn't mean that everyone else loses sight of us too.”

“Do you really believe that?” Nagi asked incredulously. “Be honest with me… I won't judge you whatever it is you believe. I don't have any room to cast stones.”

“I do, because I want to hope that someday I can be whole again. I don't think I can get there on my own.”

His reply was a sad specter of a smile.
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Don't we all wish for that peace, he mused a sad smile fluttering across his lips. It was a long moment before he chanced to speak and when he did, a familiar verse dropped from his lips elegantly rendered in his native tongue, “In the fell clutch of circumstance/ I have not winced nor cried aloud/ under the bludgeoning of chance/ my head is bloody, but unbowed.”

“That's the poem, the one I read to Farfarello… I don't understand what that has to do with us?” She sounded so desolate; her pain was almost a palpable thing. A fierce black dragon with two right eyes; mirrors to the soul destined to reflect only evil visages.

“You need to accept whatever these past demons are. You have to pass beyond the clutches of circumstance, let yourself grieve and emerge on the other side not unscathed, but wiser, stronger for your heartache. Acceptance of the things you cannot change-- that is what you should strive for when you're with me.” The first chord has been stuck and the aria of agony will commence in earnest… he hoped the girl would overlook the wanton glitter in his eyes. Farfarello was right; her anguish was a many splendored thing.

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Perhaps with this acceptance will come atonement for what I have done?
I shrugged aside the melancholy paradigm and tried to coax my mouth into a convincing smile, one that I am sure Nagi was quiet aware did not reach my eyes. “So, you can teach me this acceptance?”

He shrugged graceful shoulders and ran a hand through the thick fringe of his brunette bangs, “If you don't electrocute me to death first. I'm willing to give it my best try.”

“That was cold! But I suppose I deserve it… So, how do we start?” I was less eager to begin than I wanted to appear; it is hard to let go of one's long time demons. They had been born of my experiences and personal angst after all; some of them were almost more deeply entrenched in my psyche than the seeds of my personality.

“You have to trust me first…”

No, Nagi doesn't have high expectations at all. “I ……” the remainder was swallowed by the warm press of a chaste kiss on my lips. The touch lasted only a moment, just a quick pressure and then gone. “What the hell was that for?” I could feel my face heating instantly as soon as the question was nearly shouted into his face.

“Baka, that's how we begin-- with a goodnight kiss,” his grin was mischievous as he flopped onto his side and cut off the bedside lamp, leaving me stiff and upright in the darkness. “You can stay here you know…” his voice was quiet, deepening as he drifted off.

I wasn't sure that was such a good idea, but a strange sense of lethargy was quickly overtaking me. I had no way of knowing if the lead in my limbs was natural or German-induced, but I finally nestled down into the warmth of the full-sized bed and snuggled under the covers, careful not to crowd Nagi. I'm not sure when I fell asleep, but I was thankful that for once the demons weren't lurking on the backs of my eyelids.

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Farfarello was pulled toward the light, but repelled by it as well… The huddled, broken child inside him wept for the salvation it offered. The knife brandishing lunatic that he showed the world shied away from the destructive rays of false hope.
He fought so desperately to convince himself that the girl hurt God just as he and Nagi did… that was his only interest in her. Her innocence had to be a front, a cleverly crafted mask to ward away suspicion. Her smile already was a lie that caused the cherubs to rend their wings and bleed crimson tears of shame to have been taken in by the ruse. The revelation of her tarnished purity, the unveiling of her secret sins would bring entire ranks of archangels to their knees

by the time he was through. Then the red-eyed infant that was Jei would finally die… his last chance at sanity dashed against the altar of feminine depravity. The smile that spread across his slumbering face was rapturous.

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