Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Painting You Gold ❯ 09 New ( Chapter 9 )

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Disclaimer: I don't own Schu and his friends; that's for Tsuchiya-sensei and Koyappi/Project Weiß/TV Tokyo to work out. Or not.

Warning: This fic in its entirety involves explicitly implicit yaoi (shounen ai) in conjunction with character death, feelings, nonconsensual sex, original characters, shota, soap operatic/supernatural-type twists, spoilers, unpardoned French, Weiß, and yakuza. Squick factor is probably obvious here. ;)

Post-it: As always, thanks for your time.

/…/ = communicative thoughts and the like
[…] = memories, stuff remembered, and the like

Painting You Gold

By Koyuki Aode

9 ~ New

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"You went through Kabuki-cho?" Nagi didn't look up as he asked this in an especially soft voice, concentrating on the green onions he was chopping. His mouth curved into a half-smile of both bemusement and bitter nostalgia.

Kabuki-cho, the Kabuki district of Shinjuku - where the pachinko parlor had been - was a throbbing artery of nefarious industry buried to the hilt in the trappings of the underworld. For Nagi, it was a landmark of his life. There, he'd been raised, his life had crumbled, and he and his brother had picked up his family's pieces by sacrificing part of themselves. So, there was no confusion when he impressed several of our past clients with his knowledge of the goings-on of the area, as well as a few well-kept secrets. But Nagi always had trouble facing the ongoing existence of his past, which had led to night-long sessions with his computer. I wasn't sure how Nagi would deal with it now.

"Yeah." I glanced at Crawford, who had taken his attention away from his newspaper to watch Nagi with a degree of worry etched on his face. Farf lifted his eye from the radish he was slicing as Nagi's knife continued hitting the cutting board like a steady heartbeat.

"Well," Nagi continued when I didn't go on with my story. "Did you see anything out of the ordinary?"

The bushel of mint in my hand rustled as I breathed relief for all of us and I closed the refrigerator door with my hip. "You mean, other than Shinzui?" I said, not hiding my annoyance, "No, not really." Nagi smirked. "He asked about you."

"What did he say?" Crawford voiced a bad attempt at sounding nonchalant, setting the newspaper down as his interest shifted.

"Basically," I tore the mint leaves into piles as I explained, "Since Nagi's 'not feeling well' and can't see him, he wants to come here."

"He was serious?"

I shrugged. "Straight face. Offered to bring chicken broth or miso soup or whatever Nagi wants to feel better."

Farf spoke without looking up from his radish. "Did you tell him where he could shove it?"

"Actually, I was considering that, but I didn't think it would reflect my work ethic very well."

Crawford's mouth twitched. "Since when were you concerned with work ethic?" he managed to rib me through his serious face.

"Since when did you have work ethic?" Farf added.

"Since I noticed he likes to tip people. And we can never have enough pens around the-"

Nagi's knife took hold of our attention then, suddenly clattering against the floor. A thin ribbon of crimson coated its sharp edge while rivulets launched from it like so many eager fleas. "Shit," Nagi muttered almost inaudibly, already halfway to the kitchen door.

Crawford looked ready to jump from his seat, tracing Nagi's trail of blood with his eyes. "What happened?"

"No big," Nagi threw over his shoulder as he pushed through the door with his good hand, "Knife slipped."

Farf and I watched as Crawford went to tend to Nagi, then we threw our produce down and followed. We reached the bathroom just as Crawford lifted Nagi up onto the edge of the sink.

"Next time, be more careful," Crawford warned, letting his hands linger on Nagi's waist.

Nagi made an affirmative sound and stared at his knees. His grip tightened on the edge of the sink as Crawford's grasp slipped to his towel-wrapped wound.

"… You don't owe him anything," Crawford added quietly. Nagi blinked in surprise and lifted his eyes to Crawford's face, which was so close to his own.

"I… would feel better if I could talk to him just once," Nagi stuttered, "A-and Tot, too."

"One time?" the bathroom's acoustics echoed Crawford's sharp tone.

"Please," Nagi closed his eyes. His voice neither begged nor asked.

"We'll see," murmured Crawford. Nagi's shoulders sagged. Crawford turned his head so his face was half-buried in Nagi's hair. "It will get better. I promise."

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[memory]

"…I can't believe this. How are you going to explain this to your mother? No-How am I supposed to explain it to your mother?"

Crawford was in fifth grade - with a cut above his fresh black eye and yet another pair of crushed glasses in the pocket of his ruffled navy blue school blazer - when he'd heard that question for what had to be the hundredth time. He looked up innocently at Brad as they continued their trek to Crawford's apartment building, letting Casey's brother finish his piece.

Brad jammed his hands into his pockets and continued, "I never should have let you come to the gym. The fighting is a bad influence on you."

"No, it's not!" Crawford piped up defensively.

"Right." Brad stopped walking and quirked his eyebrow. "You wanna try that one on me again? It wasn't as convincing as I hoped."

Sighing, Crawford tugged Brad along. "It's not a bad influence, Brad."

"You realize I'm counting these things, right? On a scorecard. This has got to be your third fight, at least this month."

"It wasn't a fight fight."

"Sure looks like it was to me. These kids - are they your enemies or your friends, you think?"

"Both," Crawford answered after a thorough second of consideration.

The paradox slipped puzzlement into Brad's expression. "What?-They can't be both. If you get into fights and the fight fights with them, it's one or the other."

Now it was Crawford's turn to stop walking. "They're my friends… For now. Who's to say what'll happen later?"

"Serious?" Brad studied Crawford's face carefully, then shook his head. "Amazing… I don't know whether you're being smart or cynical. You've gotta learn to trust people or you'll make a great businessman someday - that is if you don't end up fist-fighting your boss."

"I can be my own boss." Crawford smiled at Brad's comment, but it was a short-lived joy. Even without his glasses, he recognized the white Cadillac that puttered patiently in the complex parking lot, the shady driver puffing smoke at the wheel. "Hey, that's Uncle Van's car…"

"Van?" Brad cocked his head as he processed the name. Crawford nodded, his smile melted clean off his face. "Giovanni?! I thought-" Brad grabbed Crawford's shoulder as he watched the chimney of a man, "-He's still bothering your mother? Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's been a week, maybe two," Crawford shook his head uncertainly; "He wants to take me to Europe for vacation or something." Brad dragged him past the parking lot and through the doors of the building, with only his tight grasp on Crawford's arm as evidence of silent, tense concern.

"Brad-"

"-Sh." Brad motioned for silence as they proceeded through the hallway, where two voices carried through Crawford's open doorway.

"Reece," Van's voice exploded, like the whir of a blender, "He's been having the flashes, and you know it. Just like his father-"

"-Don't bring Leo into this," Crawford's mother, Caprice, countered sharply, "You betrayed him. Your own brother! And now you're asking me to betray my son?"

"These are good people, Reece. Estet only cares about his well being. And his future. You think the boy will survive in life checking the stock market every morning and watching rainbows with that little prick, Bradley?"

Brad leaned in to Crawford's ear, keeping his voice low. "What dreams are they talking about?"

Crawford felt lightheaded. His guts had turned ice-cold, and he was shaking, a layer of cold sweat sending shivers along his neck. "I… I don't know, I wake up in the morning and… No one else knows! Mom said to keep it a secret…"

"Hey, you all right?" Brad shook him lightly, looking straight into his eyes. "-Hey! Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you."

"You promise?"

"I swear," Brad nodded. "As long as I'm breathing, you and your mom are safe." Though those words were laced with comfort and sincerity, Crawford couldn't help feeling worse in the pit of his stomach as he heard them.

[end memory]

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I was settled in bed during the bright part of the evening, propped up to read my current book, when Nagi poked his head in and asked if we could talk. I agreed, making room for him on the bed and setting the book aside.

Nagi craned his neck to read the cover as he climbed in next to me. "You're the one who reads that stuff?"

"I take it you've had a previous experience with this one?"

"I thought that one was particularly crappy. I never took you for a trashy romance novel reader."

"Whose did you think it was?"

He frowned. "Good point. But it's still crap."

"To be a well-rounded reader you must have not only taste, but an open mind."

Nagi quirked his eyebrow. "Taste?"

Eh… "… It's the best heterosexual sex I've ever had."

He broke into giggles. "Yeah right."

I couldn't help smiling back as he looked up at me. His giggling struck my ear like a rare wind chime, that charming melody of notes carried through the room; it was a sound more pleasant that I'd imagined and it seemed to ease any unconscious tensions I had at the time. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice asked if it was safe to give Nagi this power, if all that comfort bullshit I always threw at people was really work the risk. I shot back at the voice to remember it wasn't all bullshit.

Nagi rolled over to his side, with his back to me. One of his legs was propped oddly over the other, his foot flexing and pointing at the window. "This is weird," he said finally, the pillow absorbing most of his soft voice.

"What is?"

"The whole… thing. Ever since my birthday, I've been noticing things. Like…. I don't know, wood is denser, glass is more fragile. Now that I have to touch everything, it's-- everything's more tangible, more capable of being broken. I'm…"

"More human?"

He exhaled, holding his bandaged hand up in the air. "Yeah. If that's possible. Everything hurts more too. And what I think… What I think about Crawford. I get these vibes, and I don't know…"

"You know. The next time you look at Crawford, try not to think about it so much. Then you'll know."

"He had a chance." Nagi thumped his toes against the bedpost. "He had a great mother and Brad was there. How did Crawford end up like us?"

"The same way we did. I mean, look at Farf. He was raised to believe in God, and he still does. It's just not the sort of faith that leaves people fuzzy inside."

"Brad tried so hard to keep him from Estet," Nagi murmured. "Is it terrible that I'm glad Crawford joined?"

"Do you think so?"

He didn't answer. His feet stopped moving and he let his hand fall to the bed.

"You make Crawford glad that he joined," I added. "He felt something the second he laid eyes on you."

"That could have been anything."

"He still feels it. He'll do anything for you. Since you first joined Schwarz, you allowed yourself some trust in Crawford. Don't let this hinder that trust."

"Schu, I'm in love with a 27-year-old American clairvoyant. I feel like Cho-Cho-san… Do you remember what happened to her?"

"I don't know, now... I mean, that's opera. Do you think you could really hit a note that high?"

"Schu!-" he said sharply.

"-Nagi!" I exclaimed in return, "No one could make him leave Japan. Or you for that matter. You couldn't mangle this anymore if you beat it with a stick. And it's going well so far. So, just let yourself feel. That's what the emotions are there for." I stared at the back of his head.

"I didn't-" his faltered, "-I didn't expect to be so scared of everything. I don't know where this is coming from. I can't stop thinking about..."

"It happens to the best of us. What's important is that you trust Crawford. Do you?" Suddenly I was looking into Nagi's eyes.

"Now," he whispered, "Completely."

"Then you should trust yourself, too."

Before he could answer, Crawford opened the door and told us to be in the car in five minutes.

"What's wrong?" Nagi said warily.

Crawford shook his head. "Nothing's wrong."

"Then where are we going?" I grumbled. I was just ready to return to my book.

Crawford gave me a Look. "It's a surprise."

"Surpr-" my eyes widened as I caught his gist, "-Oh, a surprise. Yes. Ha, right." I nodded, and as quickly as he had appeared, Crawford slipped the door shut.

Nagi's left eyebrow twitched as he watched me through squinted eyes. "What's going on?"

"Fearless leader says-" I took hold of his arm and pulled him from the bed, "-It's a surprise."

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The sakura were in full bloom when we reached the park, pink snow tumbled about the car like coins from a defeated slot machine. Nagi had been the first to notice it; from the first pink blots he glimpsed in the sky he rolled his window down and held his fingers out to catch them.

A shocked noise escaped his lips when he realized this was our destination. "I haven't been here in years…"

Crawford eased the car through Nagi's memory. "Fresh air will make you feel better."

"What?" Nagi grabbed Crawford's sleeve. "We're here for me?"

"I'm sorry it's late. I couldn't think of a better birthday present."

"My birthday…" Nagi glanced back at me and shook his head.

/Surprise./ I smiled.

"No way…" He popped his door open, suppressing the joy that began to bubble within him and the curve of his lips.

"Go ahead," Crawford said, nodding as Nagi looked back at him.

Nagi pushed his door open wider. "I…" It was all he could do to lean over and give Crawford's cheek a light kiss. "Thank you," he breathed. Then he jumped into the swarm of petals, and ran toward the lake in the center of the park.

"Would someone tell me-" I picked at the petals clinging to my jacket, "-What it is we're supposed to do here?"

"From what I've heard," Crawford popped his own door open and watched Nagi fade into the trees. "We enjoy the view."

So we did. Farf and I defaced a few tree trunks with carved names and other epithets as we traipsed along the path Nagi'd left. Crawford fumbled with the simple card he brought along for the occasion, nearly losing it to the koi fish as we approached the lake.

When we reached the bridge, the edge of the sun had already dipped past our view. Crawford settled beside Nagi, holding the card out to him. Nagi took the card and stepped up onto the base of the railing, straining to see as high as he could.

Crawford turned his head, finding Nagi's hair almost at eye-level. "What's wrong?"

"I used to do this with my father," Nagi explained softly, keeping his eyes on the horizon, "I want to see what you see."

"Oh." After wrapping his arm around Nagi's waist, Crawford bent to Nagi's level. The only disruptive sound, as the yolk of the sun made its descent, was the random splash of koi exploring the lake and foliage each new by heart. The rustle of the wind against the blossoms whispered romantically, and the waves of pink ghosted their way to inevitable death.

When the sun had thoroughly withdrawn into the horizon, Nagi turned to look at Crawford, and realized that Crawford had been staring at him the whole time. "You missed it," Nagi said.

"I've seen sunsets," Crawford whispered, moving his free hand up to brush Nagi's hair away with his fingers, "But I've never seen your smile."

Nagi blushed as the arm around his waist pulled him closer and held him snugly. He leaned forward as Crawford continued staring into him, an invisible force pulling his face closer to Crawford's. Their lips barely touched as a cloud of sakura surrounded them.

"…I think I'm going to be sick," I muttered, leaning on the other side of the bridge with Farf. A turtle poked its head out of the water and looked at us.

"I thought you wanted this," Farf muttered back, nudging me with his elbow.

"Yeah, but it's still really mushy."

"You have to admit it's better than any movie we've ever seen."

"Then," I slipped my arm around Farf's shoulders, "In light of all this romance, do you think I could have my lighter back?… Again?"

"Not a chance," he snorted.

"Pleeease?"

"Get your hand out of my pocket, it's not there!"

"Bitch!"

"Fag."

"... Double fag."

"Lame."

"Double lame!"

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That night, when Nagi gave himself to Crawford's procedural, calculated, yet ravenous libido, he found that he could actually feel the bond their bodies shared.

It began with a chase of lips and tongues in blue moonlight, a flutter of eyelids released with each met mark as Crawford sought to catch Nagi's sweetness for himself.

They continued kissing as Nagi worked on Crawford's clothes, each admiring the other through the screen of darkness. When he finished, he looked away shyly and to gather his nerve before they continued. Then he gently moved forward, teasing Crawford's bottom lip with soft nips as the man worked on his clothes.

As Crawford advanced over Nagi's willing body, his hands clung to Nagi with what seemed static attraction coursing where their skin met; they were hands that shaped and molded him like an eager boy after winter's new snowfall.

They both pushed themselves, Crawford's concentrated gaze curtained by his hair, Nagi's averted eyes slit with pleasure. Skin flashed and fingers explored patterns of moonshine. The mattress lightly squeaked beneath them and sheets were tugged every which way were reminiscent of past nights together - but for some reason felt so different.

Finally, pleasure ripped through Nagi and made it's way to Crawford, sending the final roaring fire through his senses and forcing his head back, "-I… Love you," the cry cut through the silence. Then as quickly as he had come, embers were left in his dizzy system.

Nagi's eyes blurred as Crawford's relieved breath washed over him and he relaxed, imagining that he was subdued by salty ocean waves, warm pleasure washing over his skin and spreading inside him. Then Crawford pulled away, flipping onto his back beside Nagi. They lay, gasping and panting in layers of sheen and heat and engulfed in night's ataraxy.

A thought came to Crawford as he pulled the boy closer in embrace. "Nagi."

"Yes?" Nagi whispered, looking up at Crawford.

Crawford blinked hesitantly, his face looking more boyish and relaxed without his glasses frames. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he mumbled: "What do you think I smell like?"

"What?" Nagi sputtered, pushing himself into a sitting position. Was that a joke? Had Crawford lost his mind?

"You smell like bubble gum. I like that," Crawford kept his head on the pillow, continuing in a serious tone, "What do I smell like?"

Nagi bit his lip before answering. "You smell like money and-" he paused as he gathered his thoughts, "-Crushed tea leaves."

"Do you like it?"

"It's perfect," mumbled Nagi, settling back down against Crawford. Then as an afterthought for himself, he added: "It was a gift from Tot."

"She has good taste."

"Yeah, sometimes."

"I'll buy more when it runs out."

Crawford felt Nagi's smile against his skin. "Ok."

It was the first time they had something to talk about in bed. It was also the first time they realized that the connection they had in the bedroom could survive outside the parameters of the bed.

With a small knot of fear and the jelly of relief settling in his chest, Nagi realized the very desire that made men kneel before him in his childhood, had finally knocked him to his own knees. And it hurt him, making his lungs swell and his heart skip beats as he kept his breath steady.

"Crawford?" Nagi whispered. He spoke directly to the heart he heard beating in his lover's chest, trying to ignore the small tears that formed at the corners of his eyes.

I can't believe this is real, his brain whispered to his own heart.

"Hm?" the acknowledgement rumbled through Crawford's chest.

"Boku wa anata o ai-" Nagi mumbled, trying to force the words out.

"--Ai…"

"What is it?" Crawford ran a comforting hand through Nagi's hair.

Nagi took a deep breath, frustrated with himself. If Crawford could kiss me in public, he thought, then I can do this. So he cast away his inhibitions and went for the gold.

"… I love you too."

tbc

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