Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Malarkeys and Mayhem ❯ Insert a Random German Word Here ( Chapter 6 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

“We interrupt this program to bring you breaking news. Channel seven is live at Store 24 where a crazed foreigner went on a killing rampage.”

Crawford turned from the television to glare at Farf, who was cleaning off his knives in a horrible attempt to look innocent. The fact that he needed to clean his knives defeated that prospect.

“Should I even bother with the low profile talk again?” Crawford asked. “Because I honestly don’t know if any of you understand the meaning of those words anymore. We do not want to be spotted. Killing sprees that get us on the local news are not good for us!”

“I didn’t take any hostages this time.” Farfarello noted.

“C’mon Crawford, you should’ve called this one. I mean, we sent him out to the store to get the dye and the shoes. That wasn’t exactly the best of choices.” Schuldig noted.

“That’s because you were too lazy to go and Nagi didn’t trust either of you to bleach his hair, for some odd reason.” Crawford snapped.

“I was not being lazy! I was helping you and look, the kid bit me! That’s gonna leave a welt or something.” Schuldig noted, holding up his forearm. “Does that look infected to you?” He asked.

“Nagi does not have rabies.” Crawford said.

“Oh how do you know? You picked him up off the streets, he could be crawling with diseases. He coulda lived with raccoons before he came here, how do you know?” Schuldig asked.

“He doesn’t have rabies! We would have noticed by now! It’s been a few years!” Crawford yelled.

Meanwhile, in Nagi’s room Omi Tsukiono was coming to on Nagi’s bed wearing biker shorts and a neon green t-shirt. He looked around dazedly, having no idea where he was or why he was there. He had once again lost his memory (seems he was prone to it) and got up as he heard voices in the living room, thinking maybe they could clue him in on who he was.

He opened the door and peered into the living room where he saw a very scary looking guy with jaundice wearing bondage gear and licking bloody knives, a man with horrible fashion sense and gravity defying clown hair poking fun at an increasingly more pissed off looking Japanese business man.

Omi shut the door again, deciding whoever he was, he was not interested in talking to the scary people in the living room. He made his way over to the window and pulled it open.

That’s not such a good idea.

‘Ah! What the hell?’ Omi spun around the room, looking for the disembodied voice, when he noticed the guy with the horrible fashion sense and the gravity defying orange clown hair standing in the doorway.

“We need to keep tabs on you, and anyway, it’s really not safe to climb out that window anyway. We’re kind of high up.”

“What’s going on?” Omi asked quietly. “Who am I, who are you and how did you talk in my head?”

“While you were sleeping we had a microphone embedded in your brain.”

“Really?”

“No, it was a speaker.” Schuldig had a wide grin on his face. Omi looked a little frightened now. “Damn you’re gullible.”

“Stop toying with him.” Crawford snapped. “It’s about time you woke up. Nagi’s been gone for an hour already standing in for you.”

“Who am I?” Omi asked again. “Who am I?”

“2-4-6-0-1...” Farfarello muttered making his entrance.

“2-4-6-0-1? Is that my name? That is a horrible name.” Omi said with a frown.

“Your name is Omi Tsukiono-”

“That sounds Japanese.” Omi interrupted Crawford.

“You are Japanese.”

“Really?” Omi asked.

“Yes.” Crawford said slowly.

“I don’t look it. Look at how big my eyes are. And they’re blue. And I’m blond. I look about as Japanese as that guy.” He said, pointing to Schuldig. “But you look Japanese.”

“I’m American.”

“Get out! You totally don’t look it. Are you Japanese-American?” Omi asked.

“Sure. Whatever. Anyway, you’re going to stay here for a few days until your memory comes back. Then we’ll ship you back to your home.”

“Okay!” Omi chirped.

The three members of Schwarz collectively shuddered. They weren’t used to such an upbeat, happy presence.

MEANWHILE…

“Omi?” Yohji asked, looking at the blond kid before him very carefully. He looked like Omi. Looked an awful lot like Omi…but… he was a little too thin. And he wasn’t very happy looking. He looked kind of miserable, actually. And he seemed a little nervous, since he flinched at every sound.

“Yes. I’m Omi. Of course I’m Omi, I’m certainly not someone pretending to be Omi. Who else would I be? Some other assassin?” Nagi said very nervously and very quickly.

“Yeah Yohji, who else would he be?” Ken asked.

Yohji opened his mouth to say something, seemed to think better of it, and then stopped. He turned to see if Aya was going to question anything, but Aya didn’t seem to notice anything going on in the room. He was polishing his katana and muttering things like “Takatori shi-ne” or just “shi-ne” again and again and again under his breath.

Yohji instead turned to face ‘Omi’. “Alright. So you’re Omi.”

Nagi glanced nervously at his wrist where he’d scribbled a quick cheat sheet for himself. He had the other members of Weiss’ names written on his wrist, onto his forearm, along with physical descriptions. “And you’re Ay…K-Yogi! I mean Yohji. You’re the slut-flirt! You’re the flirt.”

“Slut? That’s a bit cruel. I have some standards.” Yohji pouted.

“Two legs.” Aya muttered from his corner.

‘Penis.’ Nagi thought, noticing that Yohji was wearing one of the gayest ensembles he had ever seen. He took in the super shiny leather or pleather pants and the snakeskin cowboy hat with a snake head still attached.

“A-Anywho…I’m feeling tired so I’ll just go to my…my room now.” Nagi said quietly, walking up the stairs and hoping he’d guessed right and the bedrooms were above the flower shop. He paused at the hallway, not knowing how to proceed. Yohji had come up behind him.

“Third one down on the left.”

“Thanks. I knew that. Because it’s my room.” Nagi said, forcing a smile. It looked painful for him.

Yohji narrowed his eyes. “Look, you’re not going to try anything, are you?”

“What are you talking about?” Nagi asked nervously. “I’m going to try to take a nap.”

“Cut the shit. You’re the kid from Schwarz. I’m not as dumb as Ken or as wrapped up in my own little world as Aya. Look, I won’t start anything with you so long as this won’t end in our deaths. That goes for the real Omi too.” Yohji said pointedly.

Nagi froze, the forced smile still on his face. He reached out on his telepathic link to Schuldig to seek out instruction.

Schu…that blond one’s figured it out. Like I told you he would. What should I do?

Slam him headfirst into a wall like you did with the last one?

Schu! Help me out dammit!

What? What do you want me to do about it? I’m trying to watch TV. Schuldig snapped.

Well then ask Crawford!

You ask Crawford.

Nagi took a deep, calming breath. I’m across town you dipshit! You’re the fucking telepath! Ask Crawford and tell me what he says to do!

Not if you’re going to be so rude. You’re in time out mister. I’ll talk to you later. Schuldig then cut the link and returned to Aqua Teen Hunger Force.

Schu! Schu!

Yohji was still patiently waiting for a response.

“God fucking dammit.” Nagi hissed. Yohji raised an eyebrow. “I mean, gee golly gosh.”

“How long did they expect you to keep this up for?” Yohji asked. “Convincingly I mean?”

“About a week.” Nagi admitted.

“So what happened?”

Nagi decided that Yohji wasn’t being particularly hostile, and he had no other brilliant ideas anyway, so he explained what had happened.

“So. We’re acting as pawns for your leader?” Yohji seemed interested in this. “What would happen if I stopped fighting the next time during a battle? I mean, you’re not allowed to kill me or anything, so…would you just stop?”

“I suppose. That would really annoy Schuldig come to think of it. He’s the one always matched up with you, and he likes playing with his victims.” Nagi muttered. “If you just stood there and didn’t do anything and he wasn’t allowed to…oh please please PLEASE!!! I hate the man, anything you can do to upset him-”

“I’ll give it my best.” Yohji said with a smile. “So Omi will be returned no harm, no foul?”

“He might have a bruise on the back of his skull, but he should physically be fine.” Nagi explained.

“Okay then. Guess I’ll leave you alone then.”

MEANWHILE

Crawford’s eye was now twitching angrily.

“What’s up fearless leader?” Schuldig asked. He was sprawled in front of the telly watching cartoons and eating a box of fruity pebbles.

“Nagi did something. I don’t know what yet, but the future’s changing again. As of now it’s not in our favor. Wait…wait…there it goes. Okay. I’ll let him live.” Crawford seemed to have calmed a bit.

“So…anything concerning me going on?” Schuldig asked.

“Something involving you within the next thirty seconds just came to me.” Crawford responded.

“Good?” Schuldig asked warily, around a mouthful of cereal.

“You could say that.”

Schuldig then began coughing weakly. Crawford watched in amusement as the fruity pebbles sprayed out of his mouth and onto the carpet. Schuldig made a fist and began pounding himself above his navel and well below his xiphoid process (yay for AHA heartsavers course!). Despite knowing the Heimlich maneuver very well, Crawford made no move to help his teammate, who was now turning blue.

Schuldig finally managed to loose whatever he had been choking on as it went flying out of his mouth and hit the TV screen. “Ooo! I got a watch.” He rasped.

“You should really read the cereal boxes before you start eating. Either that or stop being such a glutton and leave some cereal for the rest of us.” Crawford snapped.

“Are you sure you want it? It’s Atkins friendly cereal.” Schuldig noted.

“Atkins friendly?” Crawford asked.

“It’s got meat juice in it.”

“Ew.”

“Tastes like murder. And fruity goodness.” Schuldig said with a smile. “Kick ass dude! My watch glows in the dark!”

“Clearly it was worth the agony.”

“Clearly.”

MEANWHILE…

Nagi spent the rest of the day in Omi’s room, thus avoiding the rest of Weiss. Even though Yohji had promised not to do anything about him, he could tell the guy still didn’t fully trust him (obvious reasons) and whenever he made a bathroom or a food run, he could feel Yohji’s eyes on him, watching his movements.

The next morning he stumbled his way over to Omi’s closet to pick out an outfit for the day. The first thing he pulled out was a sailor top with matching navy blue shorts. He discarded the outfit out of pure hideousness. The next thing he picked out was a pink button down shirt that was small enough to ride up and show his belly button. With white shorts with scary white ribbon running through the bottom. Then a green dress. “Pink…pink…girlie…pink…girlie…gay…gay…bunnies…big white bow tie…pink…pink…jeezus this kid is not straight.”

He finally decided on a peasant top belly shirt he’d seen the kid in enough times with baggy green shorts that were almost long enough to be pants. It was cold out and he knew he was going to freeze, but dammit there was not a single pair of pants in that closet!

He attempted to skip happily down the stairs, but tripped and fell, landing at the bottom in a tangle of limbs.

“Very graceful.” Yohji commented. He was standing in the doorway between the hall and the kitchen, sipping coffee. Wearing an even gayer outfit than yesterday.

Which Nagi really wouldn’t have thought was possible yesterday when he’d seen the snakeskin cowboy hat. But lo and behold. A pink rodeo shirt, another cowboy hat, uber tight jeans and red shades.

“You have no right to criticize anyone ever.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Nagi said quickly. “Is there breakfast?”

“I don’t cook, but you can help yourself. We should have a full fridge. Or if you wait a little bit you can probably bully someone else into cooking.” Yohji answered.

“Who normally cooks?” Nagi asked.

“Omi.”

“Right. Well…I normally cook too…but it’s not voluntary. And it’s usually not edible, but that’s purposefully.” Nagi said with one of his non-painful looking wicked smiles, thinking of ex-lax and epitack. That was a fun day.

Yohji looked slightly disturbed as he made his way over to the flower shop.

“We open in about an hour. The mornings are okay, but wait until you get your first after school rush.”

“Huh?” Nagi looked confused.

“Our cover is a flower shop. Four pretty boys selling flowers. Think about it for a minute.” Yohji said.

“Do you make good money?” Nagi asked. Yohji smirked.

“No one ever buys anything. Except the princess. Oh, you’re going to have a lot of fun with Princess Ouka.”

TBC