Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Give It A Chance ❯ Part 3 ( Chapter 3 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: LilyMoonsAlias 
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Hentai / Shounen | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 11.12.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.4K | Visits: 508 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Hentai / Shounen | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 11.12.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.4K | Visits: 508 | Status: Work In Progress
Aya was sitting in his usual spot at the outdoor café, his tea slowly getting cold as he stared across the street. He was looking so intently for his sister he didn’t notice that someone had joined him.
"Are you ignoring me, kitten?" Schuldig’s nasal voice broke into his reverie.
Aya jumped, banging the table with his knees and sloshing tea over the surface. He mopped it with a napkin and glared daggers at the telepath.
"What are you doing here? You’re not spying on my sister, are you?" Aya asked.
"Why would I want to do that?" Schuldig answered. "She’s of no interest to me or Schwarz for that matter."
"You took her."
"And you got her back unharmed. We did nothing but watch her breathe for a few days, kitten. Crawford knew you would be coming for her."
Aya threw his soggy napkins on the table and crossed his arms over his chest. He intensified his glare until his purple eyes fairly glowed with anger.
"You used Weiss, didn’t you? We were just pawns in your little power play with those old people."
Schuldig raised a hand to summon a waiter and gave Aya an amused glance.
"Pawns, huh? You were more like clueless and bumbling helpers."
"Oh, fuck you." Aya gathered himself to stand. Schuldig placed a firm hand on his wrist.
"Don’t leave yet, kitten. I haven’t had my tea, yet, and we’re not done talking."
"I’m done." Aya twisted his wrist free.
Schuldig slumped back in his seat and watched Aya from beneath his wild shock of orange hair. He could hear the indignation and anger running in circles in Aya’s mind, but he also heard the curiosity underneath all the anger.
"Don’t you want to know why I saved you, why I’m here now?"
Aya sat again, not really interested in talking to the enemy, but not willing to leave without answers. Schuldig’s tea arrived and he watched the telepath completely destroy it with multiple spoons of sugar, totally masking the delicate flavor.
"How can you drink that?" Aya asked despite himself.
Schuldig smiled at him, an actual smile and not a smirk. It made him look…Aya didn’t know how it made the other man look and he was appalled he was even thinking about it. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was finding out what the telepath wanted and making sure not to give it to him.
"I like sweet things," Schuldig said and his eyes twinkled at Aya over his cup.
Unaccountably, Aya blushed. What the hell?! He clenched his fists in his lap until he had his face back under control and could look Schuldig in the eyes.
"Why are you all but stalking me?" Aya asked in a tight voice.
"Is it so hard to believe that I want to get to know you?"
"Yes," Aya said bluntly.
Schuldig chuckled. "I should have known you would say that. Look, Aya. I think you’re attractive and want to spend some time with you."
"You like men?" Aya blurted then shook his head. "Never mind, that’s not important. We’re enemies."
"No we’re not," Schuldig scoffed. "We never were. Weiss just happened to be there in the middle of things."
"You were bodyguards for Takatori," Aya pointed out.
"It was just a job." Schuldig sipped his tea/sugar water. "Not my fault you took it so personally. You got to kill him in the end."
Aya sniffed in annoyance and got lost for a moment in his memory of that time. Yes, he had killed Takatori, for all the good it had done him. His sister had still been in a coma, and he hadn’t felt the satisfaction he thought he would get by killing his parents’ killer. After it was over he had still felt hollow.
"Maybe because you never thought about life after your revenge," Schuldig observed.
Aya gritted his teeth. "Stay out of my head."
"Sorry, habit," Schuldig grinned unrepentantly. "It’s as natural to me as breathing. I can’t help but see what people are thinking. Most people tell you lies. The only truth is in their thoughts."
Aya mulled that over in his head. That was a rather…deep observation from the telepath and one he wouldn’t have expected him to say. Aya took the opportunity to take a closer look at the man. Schuldig was dressed casually in denim jeans and a soft shirt of a dark blue. His wild orange mane of hair cascaded around his shoulders in thick, rippling waves. Aya had to wonder if it was as soft and smooth as it looked. He blushed again. He really didn’t need to be thinking things like that.
Schuldig stood and brushed his fingertips across Aya’s cheek. Aya was too shocked and bewildered by the gesture to move out of reach. He sat stone still looking up at the other man who smiled down at him.
"This has been nice, kitten, but I really must go. Another time, perhaps."
Schuldig walked away whistling and Aya watched him go until he was around the corner. He lifted his hand to his cheek. The skin tingled and felt warm where Schuldig had touched him. Aya was confused. Did that mean he had liked the telepath’s touch?
Aya shook his head to clear it. That whole little episode had a surreal quality about it. He wondered what the rest of Weiss would think if they knew he had sat for a half hour and had tea with a member of Schwarz. They’d brand him as a traitor most likely. Aya sighed and lightly rubbed his forehead where a tension headache was gathering force. He needed to go home and regroup before meeting with the others for the mission briefing.
In the little house were the rest of Weiss was staying Yohji met Aya at the door, a cigarette dangling from his lip and his right arm in a sling. Aya could see the fiberglass cast covering the arm from the base of Yohji’s fingers to his elbow. Yohji’s eyes were glassy and large pupiled from a combination of painkillers and beer. Aya could smell it on him. He gestured vaguely at Yohji’s arm.
"How does it feel?"
"Broken," Yohji said.
"I mean," Aya tried again. "how are you feeling?"
Yohji took a last drag of his cigarette and flicked it out the door. He looked Aya up and down before turning away to lead the way to the basement briefing room.
"I’ll live. I heard you got shot," Yohji said over his shoulder.
"Grazed," Aya corrected. "It’s no big deal. I’ve been hurt worse." He unconsciously rubbed a hand over his left flank.
Yohji caught the movement from the corner of his eye and his gaze darkened. At the closed door of the briefing room Yohji stopped and faced Aya, his eyes sad and his face settled in stressed lines that made him seem older than he was.
"It’s not working, is it, Aya?"
Aya answered just as sadly, "No, but they won’t let us just quit. You know that, at least not me. I’ll be obligated to them forever. It doesn’t matter. I’m not fit for anything else."
Yohji wanted to refute that, but he didn’t really know what to say. Instead he opened the door and gestured for Aya to precede him into the room. Omi and Ken were already present, grim faced and looking a bit banged up. Aya traced them with his eyes and didn’t see anything significantly debilitating. Omi rose from his chair and put a tape in the player. The shadowy form of Persia with his electronically altered voice appeared on screen.
Aya struggled to concentrate on the tape, but his mind kept replaying the afternoon. Was Schuldig serious about wanting to get to know him? Aya found it hard to believe, and yet, the telepath had seemed different. Aya couldn’t place a finger on it, but Schuldig had sounded sincere. Of course, the man was probably an accomplished liar and a consummate actor. Aya rubbed his fingertips over his cheek in confusion. Schuldig had said he couldn’t help reading minds to get to the truth. Did that mean HE spoke the truth? Aya didn’t know what to think. If Schuldig’s mission was to totally confuse Aya, then, mission accomplished.
"Aya?" Omi’s voice interrupted his disturbing thoughts.
"Hai?" Aya realized he had lost the thread of the discussion about the tape. He fought to keep from blushing in mortification. Instead of paying attention he had been thinking about another man.
"I asked if you could handle the surveillance tonight since Yohji can’t do it? We need thorough data this time about security. With just the three of us going to take down the target we can’t afford incomplete intelligence this time," Omi said.
"I can do it," Aya replied. If he was busy he wouldn’t have time to think about handsome, evil telepaths. Wait. Did he just think of Schuldig as handsome? Gods, he needed to get home before he slipped and blurted something to his teammates.
Aya took a set of blueprints from Omi and left with the barest of goodbyes, saying he would contact them in the morning. Back at his apartment there was another pink rose bud and a folded note waiting for him. Aya picked it up like it would bite him and let himself into his apartment. He put his keys and papers on the small dining table and opened the note. It said, ’Thanks for an enjoyable afternoon’. Although he was still wary and confused, the faintest of smiles touched Aya’s lips. He put the single rose in a bud vase and went up to his bedroom. He really needed to try and catch a nap if he was going to be on an all night stakeout. Aya lay down on his bed fully clothed and closed his eyes.
The dream started like it always did with him telling Yohji that a refusal to take down a target made Omi and Ken targets themselves. He could remember the horror in Yohji’s face, the look of slack jawed disbelief. Not for the first time, his dream self wanted to scream that it wasn’t real, that he didn’t want to play into that charade either. It didn’t matter that they all eventually knew the truth. In the beginning Yohji truly believed that they were being ordered to kill their teammates. The whole episode was a series of nightmares come to life.
Ken blamed Aya and Yohji both for the death of the boy he had befriended. He had screamed it often enough. Without the chase the boy might not have felt compelled to sacrifice his life for that of his sister. The final fight had given Ken an excuse to take his anger out on Aya. It was supposed to be staged, with fake blood and minimal contact. Ken hadn’t pulled his punch soon enough and it was a couple of inches to the side of where it should have landed. Aya had felt the cold burn of steel enter his body and raised his eyes to see Ken glaring back at him in feral fury. Shock had glazed Ken’s eyes seconds later and he had retracted his claw to stare in horrified fascination as Aya’s blood flowed to stain his clothes and the ground around them. Aya had started falling, his world narrowed down to the crippling pain in his side. Another failure.
Aya gasped and jerked out of his light doze just as his body hit the ground again in the dream. His whole body was shaking and covered in a clammy sweat. Dragging a hand through his damp bangs, Aya sought his clock and winced at the time. A bare hour had passed since he had tried to sleep. He wearily climbed from his bed and stripped the sheets. There was no point in trying to sleep more. When the dream came it left him too rattled to try and rest.
Aya showered and dressed in black clothes with a black knit cap to cover his bright hair. His boots and trench completed his outfit and he slipped a tiny camera and voice recorder in his pocket. His katana was stashed in his coat and a couple of throwing knives were slipped into sheathes that lined the coat. Aya wanted to be ready for any unexpected company. He briefly wondered what Schuldig was doing then shook his head irritably.
"You better get a grip and get your mind on the job or you’re going to screw up again. Is that what you want?" Aya asked his reflection.
No answer, of course. If there had been, Aya would know that he had finally jumped over the line into madness. He touched the rose in passing on his way out the door for a long night of surveillance. He was distantly pleased that the tightly furled bud was starting to open a little. He made a mental note to change the water when he got home.
"Are you ignoring me, kitten?" Schuldig’s nasal voice broke into his reverie.
Aya jumped, banging the table with his knees and sloshing tea over the surface. He mopped it with a napkin and glared daggers at the telepath.
"What are you doing here? You’re not spying on my sister, are you?" Aya asked.
"Why would I want to do that?" Schuldig answered. "She’s of no interest to me or Schwarz for that matter."
"You took her."
"And you got her back unharmed. We did nothing but watch her breathe for a few days, kitten. Crawford knew you would be coming for her."
Aya threw his soggy napkins on the table and crossed his arms over his chest. He intensified his glare until his purple eyes fairly glowed with anger.
"You used Weiss, didn’t you? We were just pawns in your little power play with those old people."
Schuldig raised a hand to summon a waiter and gave Aya an amused glance.
"Pawns, huh? You were more like clueless and bumbling helpers."
"Oh, fuck you." Aya gathered himself to stand. Schuldig placed a firm hand on his wrist.
"Don’t leave yet, kitten. I haven’t had my tea, yet, and we’re not done talking."
"I’m done." Aya twisted his wrist free.
Schuldig slumped back in his seat and watched Aya from beneath his wild shock of orange hair. He could hear the indignation and anger running in circles in Aya’s mind, but he also heard the curiosity underneath all the anger.
"Don’t you want to know why I saved you, why I’m here now?"
Aya sat again, not really interested in talking to the enemy, but not willing to leave without answers. Schuldig’s tea arrived and he watched the telepath completely destroy it with multiple spoons of sugar, totally masking the delicate flavor.
"How can you drink that?" Aya asked despite himself.
Schuldig smiled at him, an actual smile and not a smirk. It made him look…Aya didn’t know how it made the other man look and he was appalled he was even thinking about it. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was finding out what the telepath wanted and making sure not to give it to him.
"I like sweet things," Schuldig said and his eyes twinkled at Aya over his cup.
Unaccountably, Aya blushed. What the hell?! He clenched his fists in his lap until he had his face back under control and could look Schuldig in the eyes.
"Why are you all but stalking me?" Aya asked in a tight voice.
"Is it so hard to believe that I want to get to know you?"
"Yes," Aya said bluntly.
Schuldig chuckled. "I should have known you would say that. Look, Aya. I think you’re attractive and want to spend some time with you."
"You like men?" Aya blurted then shook his head. "Never mind, that’s not important. We’re enemies."
"No we’re not," Schuldig scoffed. "We never were. Weiss just happened to be there in the middle of things."
"You were bodyguards for Takatori," Aya pointed out.
"It was just a job." Schuldig sipped his tea/sugar water. "Not my fault you took it so personally. You got to kill him in the end."
Aya sniffed in annoyance and got lost for a moment in his memory of that time. Yes, he had killed Takatori, for all the good it had done him. His sister had still been in a coma, and he hadn’t felt the satisfaction he thought he would get by killing his parents’ killer. After it was over he had still felt hollow.
"Maybe because you never thought about life after your revenge," Schuldig observed.
Aya gritted his teeth. "Stay out of my head."
"Sorry, habit," Schuldig grinned unrepentantly. "It’s as natural to me as breathing. I can’t help but see what people are thinking. Most people tell you lies. The only truth is in their thoughts."
Aya mulled that over in his head. That was a rather…deep observation from the telepath and one he wouldn’t have expected him to say. Aya took the opportunity to take a closer look at the man. Schuldig was dressed casually in denim jeans and a soft shirt of a dark blue. His wild orange mane of hair cascaded around his shoulders in thick, rippling waves. Aya had to wonder if it was as soft and smooth as it looked. He blushed again. He really didn’t need to be thinking things like that.
Schuldig stood and brushed his fingertips across Aya’s cheek. Aya was too shocked and bewildered by the gesture to move out of reach. He sat stone still looking up at the other man who smiled down at him.
"This has been nice, kitten, but I really must go. Another time, perhaps."
Schuldig walked away whistling and Aya watched him go until he was around the corner. He lifted his hand to his cheek. The skin tingled and felt warm where Schuldig had touched him. Aya was confused. Did that mean he had liked the telepath’s touch?
Aya shook his head to clear it. That whole little episode had a surreal quality about it. He wondered what the rest of Weiss would think if they knew he had sat for a half hour and had tea with a member of Schwarz. They’d brand him as a traitor most likely. Aya sighed and lightly rubbed his forehead where a tension headache was gathering force. He needed to go home and regroup before meeting with the others for the mission briefing.
In the little house were the rest of Weiss was staying Yohji met Aya at the door, a cigarette dangling from his lip and his right arm in a sling. Aya could see the fiberglass cast covering the arm from the base of Yohji’s fingers to his elbow. Yohji’s eyes were glassy and large pupiled from a combination of painkillers and beer. Aya could smell it on him. He gestured vaguely at Yohji’s arm.
"How does it feel?"
"Broken," Yohji said.
"I mean," Aya tried again. "how are you feeling?"
Yohji took a last drag of his cigarette and flicked it out the door. He looked Aya up and down before turning away to lead the way to the basement briefing room.
"I’ll live. I heard you got shot," Yohji said over his shoulder.
"Grazed," Aya corrected. "It’s no big deal. I’ve been hurt worse." He unconsciously rubbed a hand over his left flank.
Yohji caught the movement from the corner of his eye and his gaze darkened. At the closed door of the briefing room Yohji stopped and faced Aya, his eyes sad and his face settled in stressed lines that made him seem older than he was.
"It’s not working, is it, Aya?"
Aya answered just as sadly, "No, but they won’t let us just quit. You know that, at least not me. I’ll be obligated to them forever. It doesn’t matter. I’m not fit for anything else."
Yohji wanted to refute that, but he didn’t really know what to say. Instead he opened the door and gestured for Aya to precede him into the room. Omi and Ken were already present, grim faced and looking a bit banged up. Aya traced them with his eyes and didn’t see anything significantly debilitating. Omi rose from his chair and put a tape in the player. The shadowy form of Persia with his electronically altered voice appeared on screen.
Aya struggled to concentrate on the tape, but his mind kept replaying the afternoon. Was Schuldig serious about wanting to get to know him? Aya found it hard to believe, and yet, the telepath had seemed different. Aya couldn’t place a finger on it, but Schuldig had sounded sincere. Of course, the man was probably an accomplished liar and a consummate actor. Aya rubbed his fingertips over his cheek in confusion. Schuldig had said he couldn’t help reading minds to get to the truth. Did that mean HE spoke the truth? Aya didn’t know what to think. If Schuldig’s mission was to totally confuse Aya, then, mission accomplished.
"Aya?" Omi’s voice interrupted his disturbing thoughts.
"Hai?" Aya realized he had lost the thread of the discussion about the tape. He fought to keep from blushing in mortification. Instead of paying attention he had been thinking about another man.
"I asked if you could handle the surveillance tonight since Yohji can’t do it? We need thorough data this time about security. With just the three of us going to take down the target we can’t afford incomplete intelligence this time," Omi said.
"I can do it," Aya replied. If he was busy he wouldn’t have time to think about handsome, evil telepaths. Wait. Did he just think of Schuldig as handsome? Gods, he needed to get home before he slipped and blurted something to his teammates.
Aya took a set of blueprints from Omi and left with the barest of goodbyes, saying he would contact them in the morning. Back at his apartment there was another pink rose bud and a folded note waiting for him. Aya picked it up like it would bite him and let himself into his apartment. He put his keys and papers on the small dining table and opened the note. It said, ’Thanks for an enjoyable afternoon’. Although he was still wary and confused, the faintest of smiles touched Aya’s lips. He put the single rose in a bud vase and went up to his bedroom. He really needed to try and catch a nap if he was going to be on an all night stakeout. Aya lay down on his bed fully clothed and closed his eyes.
The dream started like it always did with him telling Yohji that a refusal to take down a target made Omi and Ken targets themselves. He could remember the horror in Yohji’s face, the look of slack jawed disbelief. Not for the first time, his dream self wanted to scream that it wasn’t real, that he didn’t want to play into that charade either. It didn’t matter that they all eventually knew the truth. In the beginning Yohji truly believed that they were being ordered to kill their teammates. The whole episode was a series of nightmares come to life.
Ken blamed Aya and Yohji both for the death of the boy he had befriended. He had screamed it often enough. Without the chase the boy might not have felt compelled to sacrifice his life for that of his sister. The final fight had given Ken an excuse to take his anger out on Aya. It was supposed to be staged, with fake blood and minimal contact. Ken hadn’t pulled his punch soon enough and it was a couple of inches to the side of where it should have landed. Aya had felt the cold burn of steel enter his body and raised his eyes to see Ken glaring back at him in feral fury. Shock had glazed Ken’s eyes seconds later and he had retracted his claw to stare in horrified fascination as Aya’s blood flowed to stain his clothes and the ground around them. Aya had started falling, his world narrowed down to the crippling pain in his side. Another failure.
Aya gasped and jerked out of his light doze just as his body hit the ground again in the dream. His whole body was shaking and covered in a clammy sweat. Dragging a hand through his damp bangs, Aya sought his clock and winced at the time. A bare hour had passed since he had tried to sleep. He wearily climbed from his bed and stripped the sheets. There was no point in trying to sleep more. When the dream came it left him too rattled to try and rest.
Aya showered and dressed in black clothes with a black knit cap to cover his bright hair. His boots and trench completed his outfit and he slipped a tiny camera and voice recorder in his pocket. His katana was stashed in his coat and a couple of throwing knives were slipped into sheathes that lined the coat. Aya wanted to be ready for any unexpected company. He briefly wondered what Schuldig was doing then shook his head irritably.
"You better get a grip and get your mind on the job or you’re going to screw up again. Is that what you want?" Aya asked his reflection.
No answer, of course. If there had been, Aya would know that he had finally jumped over the line into madness. He touched the rose in passing on his way out the door for a long night of surveillance. He was distantly pleased that the tightly furled bud was starting to open a little. He made a mental note to change the water when he got home.