Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Making The Team ❯ Prologue

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Making the Team

Nagi didn't hear what the coach was saying. He was vaguely aware that the man's mouth was still moving, but it no longer seemed important. After all, what could the man say to sum up this situation?

Nagi was a member of the under-eighteen soccer team at his school. He enjoyed it. Crawford frowned once or twice at the idea Nagi had taken up a sport favoured by a Weiss member, but as long as it didn't bring him into contact with Ken it was okay. Why would it? Ken taught under-twelves, after all.

Nagi was proud of himself for doing well enough to join a team in which he was the youngest member by a full two years. And he hadn't even used his powers once. It turned out he didn't need to. He was faster than any other member, he had better control of the ball than any other member, and best of all, he was shorter and younger than every other member and was constantly underestimated by opposing teams.

There was one little thorn in the ointment. He found most of the other members extremely attractive. Of course, traditional Japanese values frowned on this. But he wasn't exactly traditionally Japanese. His `Primary care givers' were an American and a German. America seemed so comfortable with the idea of homosexuality, and judging by the way Schuldig acted German culture had few problems with it either. But none of his teammates were German or American. They all came from very traditional Japanese families.

Nagi felt he'd dealt with this quite well. He just avoided taking showers with the other boys. He'd sucked up to Schuldig, and had the man write a note that excused him from anything communal and naked. Foot fungus, or something like that. The boys that suspected, i.e. most of them, just figured he was embarrassed about showering with the `big boys'. Nagi felt an odd pride that he knew full well he was bigger than any of them.

But this new situation? This was a whole bloody briar patch in the ointment. This was… Omi.

Omi was joining the under-eighteen soccer team. Omi, the youngest member of Weiss, was joining the team. Omi, one of whose co-workers was a football coach and ex-pro, was joining the team. Omi, who Nagi had had a crush so secret on that even Schuldig had no idea, was joining the team.

He had to talk to the coach. There was no other option.

* * *

"Explain."

"He and I, we, just don't get on. That's all there is to it. I don't think we'll make a very efficient team if Omi and I are bickering the whole time. And we'll lose. And what'd we need a new member for anyway? The team's full!"

"Well, perhaps you deserve a little advance notice. I'm leaving."

Nagi's mouth fell open. "But, why?" The coach frowned. "Who will replace you, sir?"

"It doesn't matter. But as soon as your new coach arrives you will all have to try out again. So I'm bringing in several new boys now, so that there's a wider range for the new coach to select from."

"I'm cut, aren't I?" Nagi said frankly, disappointed but a little relieved.

"I didn't say that. You are one of the most useful members of this team. If you prove yourself to the new coach, you'll stay. But remember, you've always been the exception. We've never let anyone as young as you on the team before. It has caused… problems, in the past."

Nagi's eyes widened. "But, I love this team! And I'm great at soccer. Please, put in a good word for me?" he begged.

"I'm putting in a good word for everyone. However, if you and Omi do have problems, you can be assured that the new coach will here all about it, and it will affect her decisions on who stays. You are in a precarious position."

Nagi nodded dully. "Thank you for your time, sir. I'll do my best."

"I know you will. Now, off with you!"

It wasn't until Nagi was halfway home and replaying the ill-fated conversation relentlessly through his head that a certain word finally caught up with him.

"'Her'?" he spluttered.

* * *

Nagi was making a concerted effort, and it seemed Omi was as well. Neither had mentioned, even in private, the differences that still stood between Weiss and Schwarz. Well, they'd never had any private time, yet.

Omi seemed really earnest about making next year's team, to Nagi's surprise. Why would a teenage assassin want to join a soccer team? Duh, as Schuldig would say. Ok, why would a teenage assassin already with his hands full working in a flower shop in his spare time as well as school as well as killing people want to play minor league soccer?

Nagi was leaning against his locker, musing on this, when a hand slammed into the locker next to him and he was startled to see Omi directly in front of him, completely invading his personal space. He made to move away, when Omi's other hand slammed down on the other side of him, and Nagi found himself trapped by the bigger boy.

"Can I trust you to be truthful?" Omi demanded.

"What, about us?" Nagi said, confused. Surely Omi wasn't suggesting they told the new coach about their other `commitments'.

"Have you, are you, or do you intend to use your powers during a game or training session?"

"What?! No!" Nagi was a little hurt. He had some honour. Besides, that would be cheating.

"Are you sure? There's going to be stiff competition, and you will be very much at a disadvantage, when it comes to the try-outs," Omi demanded.

"You think I don't know that?" Nagi spat. "Why do you think I've been tiptoeing around you for the past few weeks? It was practically a threat! `If there's any trouble between you and Omi'," Nagi spoke in a mock deep voice, noting somewhere in the part of his mind that was filled with self-righteous rage that Omi was fighting a grin, "'I will mention it to the new coach'. He might as well have said, `you're going to get cut, Naoe, so deal with it!'"

Nagi was ashamed to find there were tears in the corners of his eyes. It was so unfair! He worked harder than anyone else on the team. He was obviously the best. Why should his age present a problem? If anything could be said in favour of SS, it was that they were indiscriminate employers. Not matter age, nationality, state of sanity, sex, race or religion they were happy to let you kill people.

"Hey, no need to take such offence," Omi murmured, looking a little ashamed of himself as well. "I bet you'll do great! You're far more likely to make the new team than newcomer like me." His eyes were large and earnest.

"You're pretty good yourself," Nagi offered. He was very aware of how close Omi was to him, hand either side of his head, leaning in close. He could feel Omi's breath against his cheeks. And, oh god, he wanted him!

"Are you okay?" The concern in Omi's eyes was torture. Nagi pushed him away roughly and took several deep breaths. He needed a cold shower.

"You're an idiot," he muttered under his breath. Omi looked hurt, and Nagi wished he'd kept his mouth shut. He was far too used to Schuldig, who knew whether you said it aloud or not. "Schuldig's going to know," he said softly. "Crawford wanted me to quit the team the moment he knew you joined, which was probably before you did. I, I don't want to quit." He stared at his feet. How dare Weiss come and take away the last normal part of his life, the one thing he loved about all else (apart from his powers). How dare the rest of Schwarz judge him for it.

"I, I'm sorry," Omi offered uselessly. "I forgot. Damn, that sounded lame even to me!" Nagi couldn't repress a laugh at the idea that Weiss's genki, innocent chibi would say a word like `damn'. Even `darn' seem too risqué for the blonde haired, blue eyed boy that stood in front of him.

"S'okay. I'm getting kinda used to repressing stuff when I'm at home. Get it all thought out on the walk home and hide it under immense concentration on matters at hand once I'm back."

"Really, I'm sorry. I don't want to take this, which obviously means a lot to you, away. We seem to be doing pretty well at not treading on each other's feet so far."

"Not literally," Nagi commented wryly, remembering a few botched tackles on Omi's behalf that had landed them both in the mud. He remembered the heat of Omi's body against his. Oh, that was something he really shouldn't be thinking about now! Um, toothpaste! Tomatoes! Dust! Mud and Omi and ohshitohshitohshit that must be making one heck of a bulge!

Omi was blushing. Nagi was blushing. The silence was long and awkward and Nagi found himself wondering abstractly if this was what in English was known as a `pregnant pause' and why it was called that. Omi was wondering how Nagi got out of showering with the rest of the team and wished that he didn't, so that he might see Nagi…

"This isn't good," Omi eventually broke the silence. "It really isn't going to go down well."

Nagi's head jerked up. Did this mean…? Could it possibly…? Dare he hope? Why was he thinking in clapped out romantic clichés all of a sudden?

"I mean, you're going to have to put up a hell of a lot of shields to keep Schuldig from finding out, and I swear Yohji knows the minute anyone in a ten mile radius is thinking about sex."

"I can always bribe him," Nagi offered. Then, "you're thinking about sex? Um, with me?"

Omi flushed suddenly. "I shouldn't have said that."

"But you're not taking it back?" Nagi pressed him.

"No. I mean, it's what you're thinking about too, right?" Omi's eyes flicked to Nagi's shorts.

"Sorta. Mostly I was just thinking about you in general. Are we actually having this conversation?" Nagi asked, suddenly bemused. "I mean, it's part of our job descriptions that we kill each other, isn't it?"

"Is it? I don't remember `Kill Nagi' being on the contract I signed," Omi pointed out.

"Yeah, but…" Nagi trailed off. "I do like the way you think," he said wistfully. Omi gave him a bemused look. "It's still incredibly surreal though. And There's no way I can hide this mess inside me from Schuldig. And Crawford probably foresaw all this anyway."

"I kinda like that idea," Omi admitted, "that Crawford might have foreseen this. Makes it seem, well, fated, or something, you know?"

"Yeah. I like it too. But it's still a bad thing."

"We haven't actually done anything," Omi pointed out reasonably. "Just stood here blushing at each other."

"Aren't we the undersexed teenagers?" Nagi commented wryly. "Anyway, it's probably a good thing. If one thing happened it would lead to another… As it is, I guess we can pretend this conversation never happened and make a concerted effort to hate each other."

"I don't think I can do that," Omi admitted.

"Me neither!" Nagi wailed.

Omi slid his arms around the younger boy, who relaxed into them. They stood there like that for several minutes, just enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies. Slowly Omi's hand began to caress Nagi's hair, and Nagi nuzzled Omi's chest. Nagi's head slowly tilted up, so that he was staring straight into the older boy's eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, point out that they shouldn't be doing this, object to what was going to happen next, anything, but Omi placed a finger over his lips. Nagi kissed the digit tenderly.

Omi slowly drew the finger away and lowered his face to Nagi's. He aloud his cheek to brush Nagi's, to smell his hair and revel in the sensation of skin against skin, before gently resting his lips on Nagi's. It was a brief and bittersweet kiss, tinged by the pain of separation. They knew it could never be, but that never stopped either form dreaming.

Nagi slowly drew away. "I love you, you know," he said bitterly.

"I know. I love you too," Omi wrapped his arms around himself, trying to recapture some of Nagi's warmth to his body.

"But it can never be. Ever."

"Don't say never. Just not now." Nagi's head slowly turned to stare at the older boy.

"One day?"

"One day."

"Will we still feel the same, one day?"

"Don't ask questions nobody can answer," Omi snapped grumpily. The mood shattered, and Nagi turned back to his locker. It was a question no one could answer, but that didn't stop Nagi form wanting to know the answer. He heard Omi's firm footsteps and the door swing shut, and when he was certain he was alone, he began to cry.

* * *

The new coach was surprised to find that the two most promising boys on the team had quit before the season began. Her predecessor had said something about differences, but they had both been so dedicated. She wondered exactly what these irreconcilable differences had been.