Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Neutral Territory ❯ Revelations ( Chapter 6 )

Title: Neutral Territory [part 6/?]

Author: Enigma

Written: begun October, 2001

Rating: R

Pairings: (Omi + Nagi) (Yohji + Ken) (Brad + Schu)

Category: Shonen ai/Yaoi Angst Friendship Romance Action Violence. AU-OOC. Giftfic.

Archive: fanfiction.net & mediaminer.org [author: "E-sama the Llama"] plus Wuffie.net [author: "Enigma"]

Warnings: shonen ai/yaoi, angst, masculine friendship in many forms, various levels of romance, action, coarse language, whiffs of citrus but nothing detailed, possibly graphic violence, bloodshed, tiny bits of humor, fluff, and sap; more warnings will be added as necessary. AU-OOC. Giftfic for Rubious.

Spoilers: Aya's sister's condition and a few other small things, nothing major.

Disclaimer: "Weiss Kreuz" is the property of Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiss. All original characters featured herein (including but not limited to: Glocksten, Charon, etc.) are © Enigma, 2003, and are not to be used without permission. This unauthorized work of fanfiction is intended for entertainment only; kindly do not sue me.

Notes: Omi's first trip to the public library results in an unexpected meeting when Nagi saves his life without being aware of the Weiss archer's identity. Can two lonely teens overcome the limits of their dark purpose in life to find friendship and possibly love in the midst of "neutral territory"?

//thoughts//

{{mental speech}}

*****

Tuesday late afternoon. Unnamed café that specialized in noodles.

*****

Conversation between the two boys was remarkably relaxed once they got over the first stumbling attempts not to discuss their conflicting "night lives". Omi had been delighted to see that the "noodle stand" Nagi had spotted was actually a fairly nice little café where they both ordered the specialty of the house, generous bowls of noodles, broth, vegetables, and just enough meat to add flavor.

'This looks great! Thanks!" Omi remarked enthusiastically as he nodded to the waitress and the two young men were then left alone to enjoy their meals in a corner booth of the small establishment. Dipping his chopsticks into the bowl and stirring it as he added a heavy dash of a spicy powder mix to his own, he couldn't miss the look of concern on Nagi's face. He asked, "Something wrong with yours, Nagi?"

The smaller boy shook his head and then frowned microscopically as he replied, "I'll never be able to eat all of this, Omi. There's more here than I usually eat in an entire day."

"Oh?" Omi pretended to feign disinterest, yet he was pleased to have an excuse to follow-up on his earlier observation. "This is the usual amount for a place like this. You don't ordinarily eat much, I take it?"

"No, not really," Nagi commented, unawares that his new friend was taking more than a passing interest in the matter. "Then again, I skip lunch at school and at home the cooking is, shall we say, less than stellar?"

The expressionless mask the telekinetic preferred to hide behind had returned as they had walked to the noodle stand from the library, but it was useless now that the perceptive Weiss archer could see through it so easily. Omi might not have seen the full range of emotions that Nagi was capable of by any stretch of the imagination, but he was gaining insight with every passing moment. He knew that the tone of voice Nagi had just used was one that he seemed to reserve for things that pertained to Schwarz as a pseudo-family instead of as a team of killers and saboteurs.

As Omi was about to try to change the direction of the conversation so he could find out more about why Nagi was so painfully thin, the dark-haired boy continued his earlier thought. "I've never really enjoyed cooking and the others won't even try. Well, that's not true," a tiny sardonic smile tugged at one corner of his mouth before being banished, "Farfie tries to make stuff every so often, but it usually tastes so nasty that I stopped even forcing myself to eat it. If Crawford's in a good mood for a change, we might all go to a restaurant or get some carry-out, but usually he and Schuldich go out. They'll take Farfie if he's halfway sane, but usually it's just me, the microwave, and whatever's in the freezer."

Sadness filled Omi's eyes and he nodded slowly, hoping that Nagi wouldn't ask about his own home life where food was involved.

Maybe it was the fact that the members of Weiss considered one another friends instead of merely coworkers, but they all took care of each other and it was exceedingly rare that Omi ate alone much less had to fend for himself. Finally unable to keep from commenting, he stated simply, "That's too bad, Nagi. Maybe we can get together for dinner off and on now so you won't have to eat by yourself."

"I'd like that," the shy youth answered, looking down into his noodles before asking with carefully concealed curiosity, "What was that you put on your soba? Is it good?"

The warm smile slipped back onto Omi's lips as he offered the powder, warning, "It's a mixture of spices that I love, but be careful! There's a bit of a kick to it that you might not like."

"'Kick'? What do you mean?" Nagi asked, sprinkling some onto a small mound of noodles that he then scooped up with his chopsticks and popped into his mouth.

"Nagi!! Wait!!" Omi tried to reach out to prevent him from eating it all at once, afraid that Nagi might hurt himself, hand hanging in midair over the table as he realized he was too late.

Nagi, however, shocked him entirely by simply chewing the bite thoughtfully and then swallowing with a tiny nod and no evidence of discomfort whatsoever. Showing no reaction beyond the nod, the telekinetic put down his chopsticks and sipped at his hot tea before commenting, "It does add a bit of flavor, Omi, but what's the 'kick' you mentioned?"

"Uh," the older boy's mouth hung open slightly as Omi tried to grasp the fact that Nagi had just eaten about four times as much of the spice as he would've dared, then he shook his head and forced himself to explain, "It's kind of spicy. Not even Yohji-kun can eat that much of it at one time and not end up draining a glass of water! Er, wasn't that hot to you?"

Unfazed, Nagi regarded him with moderate disbelief as he sprinkled more of the spice onto the bowl of noodles and shook his head minutely, sending tendrils of dark chocolate hair to wisp about his head as he answered, "No, not at all. Maybe I should've mentioned that I rather like spicy foods when I can get them. Thai, Indian, Mexican, Szechuan, things like that."

"Oh, Nagi-kun, that's too much," Omi dropped his face into his hands in utter disbelief and missed the unmasked expression of sheer delight that danced onto Nagi's face as he unconsciously added the small endearment to the other boy's name.

Even though he'd never have mentioned it aloud, Nagi had felt a twinge of jealousy at the way Omi had always added the honorific to the names of his teammates but not himself. Despite the fact that the outgoing and friendly blond seemed to have accepted him without question or hesitation, the shy telekinetic had doubted he'd be worthy of such consideration in so short a time no matter how much he craved it.

Now, though, Nagi's heart soared and sang, a rare true happiness filling it and allowing him to go one step further past his usual restraints as he asked, "Um, Omi? May I ask you a question? A, uh, personal question?"

Shaking himself out of his overreaction to Nagi's preference for spicy food, Omi looked up and answered, "Sure, what would you like to know?" The cerulean-eyed teen was more than a little distracted since he'd assumed that almost everything about the smaller boy indicated he was fragile at one level or another. He'd been afraid that he'd caused Nagi harm by giving him the spice mix without sufficient warning and he was still wondering how he could have been so very wrong.

Nervous sweat broke out on trembling pale hands as Nagi tried to find the courage to ask Omi if he was interested in anyone or not in a romantic sense, but at the last moment he changed his mind and blurted out, "Um, how old are you?"

"Huh?" Omi blinked in confusion, the set-up for the question implied something far more significant than a simple factual matter. While he was certain that Nagi was about to say something else, he answered easily with a casual shrug of his shoulders, "Oh, that's easy! I'm seventeen. I know everybody thinks I'm a lot younger, it's the way I dress or something, I guess. Or maybe it's because my eyes seem so big, I dunno, but, uh, yeah, I'm seventeen."

Why he was rambling and suddenly blushing a little was beyond Omi at that moment, yet it most likely had a lot to do with the intense midnight blue gaze that was directed at him while he answered the question. Nagi found the other boy's sudden lack of confidence rather sweet, he'd always seemed so strong when they met in battle, these new aspects of the boy he had previously only known as "Bombay" were intriguing to him.

The quiet remained unbroken until Omi asked, "How old are you, Nagi-kun? Are you seventeen, too?"

"Me?" Nagi asked in a surprised tone, no one ever overestimated his age, he was used to being mistaken for much younger on a regular basis. "I'm sorry, Omi, but no. I'm only fifteen."

The older boy looked startled but not too bothered by this revelation. They were only two years apart in age and both still in high school, he didn't see a problem with their developing friendship the way it might have been effected if Nagi had said he was twelve or something absurd.

There wasn't a chance for Omi to comment, though, as Nagi frowned imperceptibly, and not wishing to risk lying to the boy he was coming to like a great deal, he added, "Well, at least we *think* that I'm fifteen. Even Crawford couldn't be absolutely sure. Confirming the identity of an anonymous street orphan isn't a sure thing even with his resources."

Darkness flooded the usually genki boy's face as Omi inquired, "What do you mean about being a nameless street orphan? I mean, you know your own name and everything, I assumed you were kind of like me, someone with a strange background, but nothing *that* strange." [1]

Apparently the emotional darkness was contagious and Nagi suddenly pushed the barely tasted bowl of noodles away from himself since he was no longer hungry. He sighed and dropped his eyes, studying his clasped hands as they rested on the table in front of him, unconsciously letting the warmth of the spot where the bowl had been spread into him to keep the recalled chill away.

Sadness was in his voice as Nagi explained, "I only remember a little about having a home and a family before Crawford found me. My parents were not very nice people and I only recall bits and pieces, but I know that one night when I was five or maybe six, I had to either run away from home or die there, so I ran. I ran as far as I could and kept running until I collapsed somewhere and cried myself to sleep. That was the first night I spent on the streets."

Breath caught in Omi's throat and he barely whispered, "oh, nagi, no." [2]

The blond wanted desperately to stop the other boy's obviously painful confession, but his plea went unheard as Nagi continued, "I dug through trashcans for food and I stole when I had to. There were other kids who lived on the street that hated me for various reasons and I had to fight them at times, but mostly I ran and hid. I'm not sure how long I lived that way, and after awhile some of the things I did just to stay alive …" his voice choked and the words trailed off for a moment.

The telekinetic visibly paled as his eyes slid shut in remembered pain of long nights spent allowing adults to use his child's body for things it should never have had to experience all in the name of a warm place to sleep for a change and a hot meal. After taking a steadying breath, Nagi resumed as if he'd not paused, "I'd really rather not talk about that part of it, but eventually Crawford found me. He told me that he could help me and he didn't try to take advantage of me the way other men did, never forced himself on me sexually or anything, so I went with him. That's how I ended up in Schwarz."

Hot pinpricks stabbed the backs of Omi's eyes as Nagi's tale of a level of suffering that no child should ever have to endure spilled quietly out between them. Fighting a desire to express his outrage and his shame that such a thing could occur to so gentle a soul, Omi did what came to mind first and gently placed his own hands over Nagi's where they trembled on the table between them.

Frightened midnight blue orbs rose to stare at compassionate cerulean ones and something passed between the two young men that neither had ever experienced with anyone other than their teammates.

First, shared sorrow and a deep sense of regret moved from soul to soul. Next came a confusing shared wish to have had this conversation much sooner, something that neither understood since it had hurt so very badly in the first place. Comprehension of the fact that like the demons of Pandora's Box, the words that had been loosed into the afternoon air could never be reclaimed and the new bonds that were being spun between them were made stronger because of it. And, finally, acceptance. The ultimate gift of one boy to another that no matter what his life before had been like or how his life was now, Omi still accepted Nagi completely, openly, and without hesitation.

It was an incredibly powerful moment for both of them.

A moment that was, unfortunately, broken by the sound of a distinctly feminine voice as the waitress cleared her throat nervously and asked, "Um, excuse me for interrupting, but I just wanted to know if there's something wrong with the soba?"

Omi startled slightly and gave Nagi's hands a gentle reassuring squeeze before releasing them and smiling at the girl brightly, forcing the very private matters the two boys had been sharing back into his mind for later consideration. "Oh, no, it's fine, thanks! We, er, we're not as hungry as we thought, just give us a little extra time, okay?"

"No problem," the girl said, clearly relieved. "You've only been here a little while, I wasn't trying to rush you, it's just that you weren't eating and I was afraid you didn't like it, and oh, never mind, I'm sorry to have interrupted."

"It's perfectly all right, miss," Nagi spoke up doing his best to imitate Omi's outward expression. Hoping to break some of the tension in the air, he added with forced cheer, "But do you have anything spicier than the powder that was on the table?"

"Huh?" She picked up the container and glanced at it, giving Omi a chance to sneak a quick very private smile of congratulations to the boy across the table while she peered at it. "Oh, sure thing! I've got two others you can try. I like to put powdered wasabi on mine, but that's a bit much for most people. Let me get you some other stuff, okay?"

"Thank you," Nagi said politely and watched her rush away before turning to give Omi the first open smile he had consciously chosen to share. It was barely a shift of the telekinetic's lips, yet to his companion, it was more radiant than a supernova. "And thank *you*, Omi, for listening to my story and not judging me for it."

The sad smile Omi gave him in return was more honest and truthful than anything Nagi could recall seeing in quite some time as he told him, "I'd never have believed all that if I had heard it from someone else, Nagi-kun. I can't imagine living the way you must have, but judge you for it? Why would I do that?"

A heavy sigh echoed through a too-thin chest as Nagi said simply, "Most people do, Omi. The minute they find out I grew up on the streets, they assume a lot of things about me and while some of them might've been true a long time ago, most of them aren't true now. I'm just glad I can tell you all of that and we can still be friends." Suddenly uncertain, he asked nervously, "Um, we *are* friends, aren't we, Omi?"

"Absolutely!" Omi confirmed forcefully, wanting to reach out and gather the other boy's hands into his own once more, but the waitress was on her way towards them, bringing assorted condiments for Nagi to try, so he just added, "I think being friends sounds great to me, Nagi-kun. I hope we can talk more later, but right now, why don't we eat our dinner before it gets cold?"

Nagi slowly retreated back towards a less emotional state as the waitress stepped closer and set a small tray on the table saying, "That's a good idea. Soba reheats okay in the microwave if it has to, but it's so much better fresh! Now, why don't you try some of these and let me know what you think, okay?" She smiled at both boys before hurrying away.

Omi watched Nagi look through the spices with some interest and shook his head in mild amusement. His new friend was an astoundingly deep person whose soul seemed to be filled with secrets and puzzles. But right at that moment, all that the blond wanted from the sable-haired boy was to see that rare smile again sometime soon, preferably after he ate a good meal, but soon just the same.

*****

To be continued.

Author's Notes:

[1] Since I'm trying to keep this story as spoiler-free as possible, I won't add any further details about Omi's background at this point. But for those of you who know it already, doesn't that comment seem dreadfully ironic?

[2] As those who've read some of my other works already know, I use dialogue written in all lowercase letters to indicate when something is said very softly in a whisper or even a gasp. Hence, Omi's reaction to the initial revelation of Nagi's horrible past is intended to reflect how shocked he is by it.