Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ In My Place ❯ One-Shot

Author's Notes: It's nothing very impressive… but I liked the characterization of Schuldig all right. ^^; Enjoy if you can, being as meager as it is.

Some days, Schuldig very much liked being a telepath.

Some days the inherited trait was loathsome to him. It was like a plague, constantly itching at the back of his mind, constantly filling him with images and thoughts not of his own, and almost always unwanted. He supposed years as a child of watching and reliving the memories of others, hearing their innermost secrets, probing their minds to see the darkness within everyone, he had become jaded. Bitter, perhaps.

Yes, probably so.

But today he was having fun. Today, he had stumbled across a fond victim -- a Weiss kitten, strayed far from the home it belonged.

He watched the child with an almost careless gaze, but his eyes were hard and calculating as he observed the blonde boy. The youngest kitten was brooding. He was dwelling on the death of that girl... what was her name. He had already forgotten.

/Ouka./

Ah, yes. Schuldig smiled. Takatori Ouka. She had been a pretty girl. Somewhat on the pushy side. Not exactly what he would have gone seeking if he was looking for a significant other -- and he so rarely was; late night excursions to satisfy his needs were enough for him -- but he supposed people drifted toward what appealed to them. Hell if he understood why Nagi had developed a certain odd fondness for that Toto girl of Schrient, but if that was his prerogative it was not his place to intrude.

Her death had not been necessary... but it had been fun. That was all that seemed to matter to him these days. So long as he could have fun...

He stood, briefly probing the mind of the staff of the cafe he sat in to believe that he had already paid for his coffee. It was a meager few dollars for him, but something about paying for his purchases like an ordinary person clashed terribly with the reputation he had built up.

The Weiss kitten was not stupid, that much he could give the boy. The blonde seemed to have noticed his approach before he was within even feet of him. People all around him prevented him from reacting rashly, but he turned, slowly and surely. Schuldig smiled.

"Guten tag, mein katze."

"You," the boy hissed. Schuldig briefly prodded his mind. Right. Tsukiyono Omi. Otherwise known as Takatori Mamoru, as Hirofumi had believed him so soundly to be.

Poor Hirofumi. Struck down by his own brother. Schuldig had to give the boy his credit -- he was not stupid, and he was not naive. People seemed to mistake him for that all too often. Hirofumi was just one of the few that paid for that misconception.

"Doing well, I hope?" Schuldig asked cheerfully.

"What do you want?"

Schuldig lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. "Nothing. The bad guys have real lives too, you know." He paused. "I suppose you wouldn't, would you? Even in your real life you play a lie. Must be hard."

"Shut up," Omi snapped. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

Schuldig was amused. There was nothing quite as intriguing to him as the emotional ones. Fujimiya Aya was an absolute bore. He never reacted in an even remotely amusing way. Kudou Youji could prove to be interesting at times, but it was far more fun to sit back and poke in on him when he was having one of his many liaisons. He seemed to have a habit of strangling his girlfriends time to time... And the last, the former soccer player... he was more fun to watch tear himself to shreds.

But Omi was different from them. He was darker than all of them. His sins ran deep. Yet he seemed to be the most composed of all. That was why Schuldig enjoyed to watch him break.

"Oh, probably not," he agreed cheerfully. "You know, that girl's funeral was just a few days ago. I expected you to be there."

Omi drew back as though struck. The memory of the girl was still painful to him. Of course. If the pain were numb, it would be no fun at all to pry it out of him. There was no satisfaction in pouring salt into a healed wound, so to say.

"Poor way to honor her memory, you know."

"And I guess you were there?"

Schuldig appeared startled he had to ask. "Of course. I'm her father's bodyguard, aren't I?"

"You killed her!"

He grinned. "Minor detail."

Such a tangle of emotions swarmed over the boy that Schuldig had a difficult time to picking them apart and analyzing them. He was angry. No, furious was more like it. But at the same time he was sad, and there was even a glimmer of regret and guilt somewhere beneath the surface... he felt as though he should have been there, and yet he had not.

"I'm sure you had more important things to do," Schuldig said simply. He shrugged, a delicate upturn of one shoulder, and pressing his hands in his pockets began to stroll away.

"Take care of yourself, mein katze."

The boy wanted to follow him. Schuldig could hear the struggle of emotions even as he walked away. He debated it, twisted it over in his mind... and then dejected, did nothing. Schuldig smiled. His day had just brightened considerably. Nothing was more enjoyable than crushing another person's hopes.

His smile twisted into a bitter mockery of the amused grin he had worn before, bitter and reproachful. Hope was a useless thing anyway, he thought. Hope never amounted to anything.

"Schuldig."

He glanced up. Quick as it had come, the twisted smile was gone, and replaced with another cheerful one in its place.

"Been waiting for you, brat. I had to amuse myself."

Nagi stared at him for a moment, eyes soft and searching. Schuldig looked away. He hated it when people tried to analyze him. He hated it more when it was Nagi. The kid was the only one that could unnerve him. Nagi made him feel as though he had a hole in his chest, and the telekinetic could stare directly through and see all he was.

Disturbing thought, really...

Nagi looked away, his eyes traveling down the street and resting upon the form of Omi, still standing there, still unsure of what to do.

Then, slowly, he looked away. "Leave him alone," he said quietly.

Schuldig raised an eyebrow. "Why should I do that?"

"He's been through enough." Nagi stepped down from the bookstore step and began to walk away, to all eyes, the image of an innocent teenager in his school uniform. Schuldig knew better. Nagi had the potential to be and likely would be someday more powerful than all of them. His was a power that deserved to be respected.

"All right, then," he conceded.

Nagi glanced at him, a somewhat puzzled expression in place. "I didn't think you'd agree so readily..."

Schuldig smiled, and it was as genuine of a smile as he could give anyone. It was a smile reserved only for Nagi.

"Anything for you, mein schatz."