Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Neutral Territory ❯ Two Very Different Homecomings ( Chapter 8 )

Title: Neutral Territory [part 8/?]

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 evening through midnight. The flower shop's kitchen and then Omi's bedroom.

*****

Arriving at the back of the already closed flower shop, Omi was relieved to discover Yohji's car was missing and he guessed correctly that the two lovers had gone out for the evening. Stepping into the kitchen, he saw Aya sitting at the table, reading a book and waiting on something or other that was cooking on the stove.

"Good evening, Aya-kun," the blue-eyed teen greeted pleasantly, dropping the weighty backpack onto a chair before pouring a glass of milk for himself.

The redhead glanced up at him with slightly narrowed violet eyes and nodded in response before asking, "How did it go?"

Omi choked on his milk, thinking Aya meant what his own brain had labeled a "date" with the mysterious young Schwarz member who had filled his thoughts throughout the ride back from downtown. Spluttering a bit, and wiping milk from his lips with the back of his hand, he asked, "Uh, what do you mean, Aya-kun?"

If the older man hadn't been suspicious before, he certainly was now. The slender swordsman rose fluidly and moved to stir the bubbling pot before he cast an appraising glance at his young friend and said, "The library, Omi. I wondered if you got everything you needed to complete that geography assignment. It *is* due tomorrow, isn't it?"

Wishing he could hide his embarrassment, Omi simply nodded and drank his milk, hoping that whatever Aya was cooking might suddenly start to boil too fast or something so he could make a quick getaway. The powers that be weren't on his side at the time, however, and the taller assassin gazed at him again before saying simply, "Good. We need more information on Glocksten and Charon, but school's important, too. Wash up for dinner, it's almost ready."

Omi breathed a sigh of relief, then shook his head, "No thanks! I already ate."

Aya frowned, the slight anger on his elegant visage making him seem somewhat menacing as he asked, "Are you sure? I made enough for both of us."

"I'm sorry, Aya-kun," Omi explained apologetically, "but I ate before I came home. I was just too hungry to wait. Um, I need to get my schoolwork done now though, okay? Maybe I'll eat some later for a snack."

"All right," Aya answered, the anger in his gaze replaced by disappointment for only a fraction of a second before he turned away from Omi to hide his reaction, functionally dismissing him while focusing on stirring the food so it wouldn't burn.

"Um, I'll study for awhile and check on the computer searches later, okay?" Omi asked, wondering for a moment if he should sit and keep the other man company after Aya had gone to the trouble of cooking for him the way that he had.

Determined to act as if it truly didn't matter that Omi didn't want to join him, Aya moved to pluck his book back up from the table, grunting softly in acknowledgement before ignoring the younger man entirely. Once again he felt the sting of alienation he himself insisted on so as to protect those he had come to treasure from future suffering. Eyes like chips of amethyst looked unseeingly at the page before him and deep inside, a voice that once laughed while enjoying a festival sobbed softly yet went unacknowledged.

Unaware of his teammate's inner struggles, Omi just picked up the heavy backpack once more then made his way up the stairs and off to his room where he flopped on the bed before taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

//I wonder if Nagi made it home okay?//

Even though he was alone, Omi stifled the desire to giggle aloud at the very idea that the petite telekinetic might have trouble with something as harmless as traveling on public transportation in one of the safest countries in the world.

//He's an assassin, Tsukiyono, duh!! Of *course* he made it home safe and sound. It's a shame to think there isn't anyone there who cares about him the way that even Aya cares about me here. I hope Aya's not too angry that I didn't want whatever it was he'd cooked for dinner, but I'm sure it couldn't have been half as good as the noodles Nagi and I had, they were really great! Or was it just that I was eating them with him? Oh well, it doesn't matter, it was a terrific afternoon.//

A sigh left his lips as Omi sat up and began digging out the materials needed to finish the project on the Aswan High Dam.

Shifting through the copies Nagi had made for him, he smiled a little, daydreaming about midnight blue eyes, hair the color of a bar of imported dark chocolate, and skin that looked softer than silk. The last thought triggered another one as he pondered what it might be like to caress that skin directly, not just through the other boy's clothes the way he had when he'd touched Nagi's shoulder at the library. Granted, he'd wrapped his hands around the younger assassin's when they had trembled on the tabletop at the noodle shop, but he was thinking of pale shoulders and attractive, boyish cheeks, not just delicate though careworn fingers.

His mind occupied with such sweet thoughts, Omi never noticed the time slipping away as he finished his schoolwork.

Sometime after midnight, the distracted youth would finally remember to check on the computer searches for the mission Kritiker had assigned Weiss, but he would discover that there was nothing of significance accomplished just yet. He would make his way to bed without encountering any of his teammates and he'd fall into a pleasant dream of himself and the boy who filled his thoughts except that in the dream, Nagi would smile openly for him and perhaps even laugh at his jokes.

If he'd stopped to think about it, Omi might've been frightened by the fact that he was falling in love with an enemy agent so very easily, he might even have wondered if there was a chance that this was all a trick designed by the mind-warping German psychic. Luckily, it never even occurred to him and he continued to live in his rose-colored world, a place where he felt confident that he could separate the two opposing sides of his life no matter how impossible the task might've seemed otherwise.

*****

Tuesday evening. The kitchen of the Schwarz penthouse.

*****

While Omi was arriving home to find a welcoming, home-cooked meal waiting for him prepared by the taciturn leader of Weiss, Nagi was regretting the fact that he'd allowed his new friend to talk him into bringing home the leftover soba. The predictable confrontation that was to come because of the noodles, however, was not necessarily what it appeared to be on the surface primarily due to the fact that both participants weren't exactly who they seemed to be in the first place.

"So, Nagikins, what have we here?" [1] Schuldich asked, snatching the plastic container from the boy's hands and opening it to sniff at its contents before frowning at the distinct scent of too much spice for his tastes. So much for stealing the little one's snack for himself later.

"It's just soba, Schu, leave it alone," Nagi frowned openly at the man and took the container away, slipping the lid back into place and shoving it into the refrigerator, wishing the German would find someone else to harass for a change.

{{Now, why would I want to do that, chibi?}} The red-haired man smirked as he felt Nagi's mental shields slam into place even more firmly, locking him out of even the most surface of thoughts where such things as simple acknowledgement of being too hot or too cold might slide past.

"Stay out of my mind, asshole," the telekinetic growled angrily, shooting a midnight glare at smirking emerald eyes.

While Nagi put a great deal of effort into remaining as emotionless as possible when away from his own team, the façade simply wasn't worth it when he returned to the spacious penthouse apartment that Schwarz used as both living quarters and base of operations. Crawford had been able to read him like a book ever since he rescued him from the streets and Schuldich was almost as good at it, too, simply due to the length of time spent together in close proximity. Farfarello's ability to understand what the others thought or felt oscillated from non-existent to superior to even Crawford's, yet he usually didn't get involved.

Schuldich cocked his head and then asked in an insinuating tone, "Dining out two nights in a row isn't your usual preference, Nagikins. What are you up to, hmm?"

"What do *you* care?" The Japanese teen spat, suddenly nervous that despite his mental shields, perhaps something about Omi had slipped past his guard and had given the telepath a hint as to the reason he'd skipped eating his usual tedious microwave meals.

"I *don't* care, not really." The older assassin lied and shrugged elegantly yet continued to watch Nagi's reactions as he pressed for more information, "However, I feel more than a little suspicious when you change your ways so suddenly. Perhaps you've found someone to amuse yourself with other than all your invisible little cybernetic friends?"

Nagi gasped in anger and burst out, "Leave my online life out of this, you bastard! What makes you think you can even comment on how I spend my time when all you ever do is try to make me miserable?!" His fists were clenched in anger and the dishes sitting in the sink rattled a bit as his power began to express itself unconsciously.

The pair of them had had this argument any number of times. Schuldich would deliberately bait Nagi into fights like this since it amused him, but at times like this he went too far and would come to regret his actions shortly.

"That will be *enough*!" Crawford's deep voice interrupted the building rage Nagi was feeling and the dishes quieted immediately as the much younger psychic turned midnight blue eyes towards his leader in a pleading gaze that was ignored. His glasses reflected the light in the kitchen with an angry flash as he asked, "Can't you two be in the same room and *not* argue? What's the problem this time, anyway?"

Schuldich shrugged his shoulders lazily and regarded the man who was both leader and lover to him while saying, "Little Nagikins here seems to be hiding something from us, Crawford. I felt it was in the best interests of the team to find out what it was."

"That's not true!" Nagi growled angrily. "All you wanted to do was give me grief for daring to have a life beyond what you feel like letting me have, Schuldich! If I want to eat out, I can, and it's none of your damned business!"

Crawford reached up to rub at the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Sometimes he felt like he was the only adult in the group and at others he wondered why he even bothered to try to maintain the peace between the two bickering teammates. Opening a channel to the telepath alone, he asked simply, {{Schuldich? Do you have a legitimate concern or is this just your usual harassment of the boy?}}

The German sent back, {{I'm not quite sure, but it *is* highly suspicious that he'd deviate from his usual patterns. The kid is as rigid at times as you are, Crawford.}}

A mental snort of annoyance accompanied the response, {{Don't bother to try to get your way by complimenting me, idiot. All right, I'll handle it.}}

Aloud, the American asked pointblank, "Are you doing anything that endangers Schwarz, Prodigy?" Mahogany-colored eyes stared at the small psychic, seeming to be able to look into his soul far more easily than Schuldich ever could.

Nagi could never bring himself to lie to the man who had saved his life regarding anything as critical as this, yet he felt that as long as he and Omi maintained the separation of their personal and professional lives, he could honestly answer, "No, Crawford. I am *not* doing anything that puts the team at risk. Despite what *some* people might think," he glared at Schuldich, "I *am* capable of making rational decisions about how I spend my time!"

"Now just one damned minute, Naoe!" The redhead flared angrily, "I never said that, what I said was--"

The precognitive interrupted again angrily and snarled, "What you said doesn't matter, Schuldich! If Nagi says he isn't doing anything to interfere with the group, you've got no grounds on which to continue to harass him! Shut up and leave him alone or else!" He glared at both of them as if daring either to say anything else that might give him cause to need to exert his authority in a more direct and unpleasant manner.

Flashing jade-green eyes regarded Crawford before Schuldich backed off from the confrontation with a dismissive gesture and a toss of his head that sent flame red hair skittering over one shoulder. "Fine, fine, spoil the brat! See if I care!"

Turning on his heel, the telepath stalked from the kitchen in search of his other favorite person to annoy, wondering if Farfarello had discovered yet that the episodes of "Iron Chef" the Irishman had recorded the weekend before had been copied over with "Oprah" not quite by accident.

Nagi looked vindicated as he nodded to the man who stood before him, arms crossed over his muscular chest and regarding him carefully. Trying to sound nonchalant, the sable-haired teen commented off-handedly, "Unless you need me for something else, Crawford, I've got homework to do."

"No, I don't need anything else just now, Nagi," the American continued to look at him strangely, causing the telekinetic to feel more than a little nervous. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd be more careful. Schuldich may or may not have a valid point about your actions. If he *does*, then I expect you to change whatever it is you're doing so that it doesn't become an issue again, understand?"

"I understand." Nagi answered somewhat chastened, dropping his eyes briefly then finding the inner strength to look the older man straight in the eye and ask quietly, "But why can't I have even a bit of normalcy in my life without being questioned about it? It's not as if it really matters to him whether I eat here or not. I'd just like to be trusted more, that's all."

Inwardly, Crawford felt stung by the remark yet outwardly he gave the impression that he didn't even care, "You are trusted, Nagi, to the extent that *I* feel such faith is justified. Schuldich's opinions are just that, his. Not mine." A chilliness entered his tones as he warned, "However, betray *my* trust and you *will* regret it!"

The threat in Crawford's voice was all too clear and Nagi felt defeated again, dropping his head and nodding before he asked quietly, "May I go now?"

"Certainly," the black-haired man nodded. He then remarked as if it wasn't important even though he knew it was for the boy, "In case you'd like to know, Schuldich and I will be at a meeting when you get out of school tomorrow and probably won't be back until late. Feel free to plan to do whatever you like for dinner and know that you won't be harassed about it."

A shy smile lit the young telekinetic's face as he answered quietly, "Arigatou, Crawford. I'll remember that."

With an unexpected lightness to his step, Nagi headed to the privacy of his bedroom planning to study for a few hours before turning his attention to the people that the German had referred to earlier, the hours of darkness to be passed in the pleasantly anonymous reaches of cyberspace.

*****

To be continued.

Author's Notes:

[1] Generally speaking, I avoid the use of dialectic tricks to try to make any of the characters "sound" more like their nationalities unless absolutely necessary. Hence, there's no false accents added to Schuldich or Farfarello's dialogue. Also, I'm making no assumptions as to whether or not Brad and Schu speak English, Japanese, German, or some other language entirely when they communicate privately. What matters is that they understand each other and that's better than quite a few couples can claim.