Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Demon's Dreaming ❯ Rain ( Chapter 1 )

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

Pairings: Schuldig x Ran, Yohji x Ran, Crawford + Schuldig + Ran

Warnings: Spoilers for entire series, severely AU, m/m relationships (a.k.a. yaoi), harsh language, violence, lemon...the list goes on and on.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Weiss Kreuz or any of its characters. I merely use them for my own amusement.

AN: I'd like to start by declaring this story almost completely AU. As such, I've either distorted or completely removed certain events from the storyline, and done the same to some of the characters…don't worry, most of them will show up in one form or another, eventually. Lastly, I really hate this first chapter.

Demon's Dreaming

Chapter 1: Rain

“Ran, hurry!”

There were few things in life that Fujimiya Ran knew to be true.

There were even less that he could attest to with absolute certainty.

As for the things that he could, there was the love his parents shared, a bond that to his mind seemed unbreakable, even after so many years of marriage. Second, there was his own affection for his little sister, yet another connection that had endured many, many years, and more childish squabbles than he cared to remember. Through it all, there was the assurance that there was a rightness to his life, and to the link between his family members, something that would not and could not ever be severed.

Ran had yet to realise that he could be wrong. He also had yet to acknowledge, in this body and mind of an adolescent on the verge of true adulthood, that absolute evil existed in the world.

“Ran…Ran….”

But at the end of all things, he would learn.

The air was suffused with a peculiar sort of heat and yet, in one more irony placed upon a seemingly endless stack, he could not feel it. Instead, his body, bruised and battered as it may have been, was gripped with a sudden onset of cold, one that he felt down to his very bones. He supposed that this was a signal of his approaching death.

He found that he did not mind it.

Everything had been ripped away from him. Even now, in his mind's eye (and it saw very far, farther than it had when he was still alive and loved), the inferno raged around him, the conjectured recollection of his parents' bodies engulfed in flames.

His sister lay in a crumpled heap nearby, cocooned by the stones in which they had once lived, her kimono stretched like spilled milk around her.

Was he dying?

“Ran…”

Gripped with sudden pain, he stared up at the night sky and blinked furiously. To his amazement, no tears came.

Was he dying?

The pain receded. In its place was a void, a gaping maw that grew and grew until it threatened to engulf him. Still he struggled, eyes wide and fearful, lest that one fragile strand slipped away.

Was he…?

Footsteps. The boy tilted his head to the side, to where his sister lay. Even now he could sense her receding into the darkness, the single-minded brightness of her consciousness slowly fading.

(…Ran…where?)

It still burned.

(You failed her, you know.)

The boy frowned, unwilling to shift his gaze from the single white hand beneath the rubble. Something niggled at his mind, teasing at the edges of awareness, but he did not turn.

(She's dying.)

No. No. He wouldn't let her. Stubbornly, he clung to the feeble light, cradling it, desperate to coax it back to brightness. Even in his cautious, loving hands, it grew weaker.

(Ran? Where…are you?)

Aya?

His heart seized in his chest. There was no sign of movement from where his sister lay, and yet…he could hear her, as clearly as if she had been kneeling beside him, whispering in his ear. He refused to acknowledge that other voice, the voice that spoke such lies about Aya-chan. She would be fine. She had to be. Even if he died, she would go on and…

Aya?

The light dimmed.

Aya?

(ranwheredidyou…? nowaitwhere? mother…?)

And then it was gone.

Ran fancied he could almost hear the snap.

Abruptly, the world came back into dazzling focus, a cacophony of voices filling his mind and his body. The emptiness yawned deeper.

Was he dying?

Even as the cold washed over him once more, and the shrill hum of the voices grew in magnitude, he reached. And recoiled.

Blue eyes.

Aya, please…where did you…?

(This is your sin.)

Blue.

Pale and almost colourless.

With a final, wrenching scream, he fell into the darkness.