Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Painting You Gold ❯ 11 Undertow ( Chapter 11 )

Notice: The fic's changed a bit in the revisions, the largest change being that the Chapter Formerly Known as Tenth is now Chapter Nine, with a shiny new Chapter Ten in its place. (The Old Chapter Nine wasn't being shiny at all, so it was recycle binned.) Rest of the fic'll make more sense if the changes are read before the current chapter in your browser. Thanks much. Enjoy the show. And no author-killing. That's not nice.

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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, unpardoned French, Weiß, and yakuza. Squick factor is probably obvious here. ;)

Post-it: Everyone who manages to put up with my writing: THANK YOU. This includes Yanagi-sen, Patti, and Cayra at various points of... this year? I think. I am drunk on BEING SLEEPY. Yes. Ignore me now. Go. Shoo.

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

Painting You Gold

By Koyuki Aode

11 ~ Undertow

* * *

"It wasn't me," Nagi insisted to himself, "It wasn't me who died." We had relocated to the back yard (well, the patch of grass and area enough for several pieces of furniture that we referred to as a yard) for breakfast. He sat back in his lawn chair, tilting it on two legs as he closed his eyes to the sun and chewed on some mochi.

"It looked like you," I said, between sips of my juice, "Even sounded like you."

He opened his eyes to me, looking slightly violated. "You saw my dream?!"

I shrugged. "Part of it."

Nagi held his hand out and rubbed his fingers together, watching the mochi flour fall like snow to the ground. "Is that how he died?" he asked cautiously, as if Crawford might hear him, "The real Brad?"

"Something like that. Don't know about the bedroom thing, though."

"What bedroom thing?" He frowned.

"Nothing," I dismissed the question. It must've been my own dream.

Nagi changed the subject for me, saying suddenly: "What's Crawford's real name?"

I paused to think about it. As confident as I was, I had never come upon it. "That's something even Crawford doesn't know." The only hint any of us had was Brad referring to Crawford's mother as "Mrs. V."

"He doesn't remember his real name?"

"He was a completely different person then," I explained. "And he's pretty much bastardized his childhood hero's name. He sleeps easier thinking that this is who he is. Nagi-" I scooted forward in my seat, preparing to ask my own question, "-Do you regret any of this?"

"It was a pretty bad dream," he replied, after a moment of deliberation.

"I mean the way you are now. What I. WhatIdidtoyou," I squeezed out. I stroked his hair, feeling quite displaced by the apology I felt coming on. I only managed a soft "…I highly doubt you'll die."

"It's ok," Nagi whispered, shrugging it off. "I was suicidal anyway."

"What?!"

Nagi's chair crashed back down to all four legs. "It wasn't one of those selfish things. I mean, really, I didn't care. No one else cared. It was such a waste, you know? It seemed stupid to have no direction in life, being just Estet's puppet. Who would've cried if I was dead? Who would've missed me? I'd be doing the world a favor, if I died, because I wouldn't be employed to destroy it. We're living on borrowed time anyway, being criminals and all." He thought about his next statement, his eyes running along the patch of grass. "There wouldn't have been regrets."

"I have wonderful timing, don't I?"

"There are a few people I'd miss if I died," Nagi unsteadily admitted, "And that is how I would rather die." He let himself smile, a brief flash of the soft curve of his lips and his thinned eyes, more radiant than I'd ever seen him. Then it was gone.

"--Hey, don't do that," I commanded softly.

"What?"

"Why don't you keep the smile? It looks good on you."

"A picture will last longer," he began to say, but was interrupted by the telephone. He held onto my shoulder as I moved to get up. "I'll get it."

"Oh good," I said as the phone jumped into his hand, "This was a morbid conversation anyway."

It was Tot on the line, which was enough to turn my juice sour.

But, this was a business call and being unable to directly speak with Shinzui was the least of our problems, I learned, as the vague smile on Nagi's face quickly turned downward. His expression had phased into a very sort of specific fear, unidentifiable by me, but still very weighted and uncertain all the same.

As the distress in Nagi's voice grew more apparent, his breathing had stopped completely. I sat in so much suspense, watching as all the color drained from his face. "It's… Shinzui's fiancée," Nagi said shakily, "Maaya Torikata. She's dead…"

* * *

When we alerted him, Crawford took the situation in with a skeptical silence. He wasn't fully convinced that Shinzui's so-called "loss" was as much of an emotional chasm as Tot had put on.

Nagi, having once been "close" to Shinzui (and having actually met and enjoyed the company of the deceased), voiced condolences for us when we found ourselves in the strange office building once more. I tuned most of it out, letting my attention catch on a piece of drifting lint. Time-consuming, that drifting lint.

"Ahem." Nagi made a slight gesture with his hand to us when we didn't bow with him.

/What, you're finished already?/ I made a subtle attempt at refreshing my not-bored expression.

/He could be watching./

We all gave a synchronized nod, as sincerely as we could. I didn't see why it mattered; Shinzui was turned away from us in his chair, facing the window, and his left hand's current best friend - a half-filled liquor glass - seemed to have procreated a line of offspring on the desk. But as Nagi implied, for all I knew, the bitter gaze I saw reflected in the glass pane could've been fixed on my reflection for the past ten minutes of formality.

Naturally, it took all my willpower to not stick my tongue out.

"It's all right," came Shinzui's weak reply.

"Do the police have any leads?" Crawford inquired.

"They have one," Shinzui said, suddenly sounding as bitter as he looked. "Barely spring now. I'm sure I will see snow before they catch the murderer. I've seen homeless men in the train stations - reading newspapers! - who are more intelligent." He swiveled around in his chair suddenly, and threw several drawers open in search of something. When he didn't find it, he buzzed Tot on his intercom and grunted something about pills. Tot said she'd get right on it. Shinzui grunted, sipped his glass, set it down next to the others, and swiveled back to the window.

Crawford looked like he had an awful itch he wanted to scratch. "Is there anything you'd like us to do?"

"Tell me-" Shinzui huffed, his syllables crashing into each other, "-Who would get through eight bodyguards - and their top security system - just to stab a woman and not rob her."

We all shared a mix of looks as Tot rushed in with the pills and many apologies. She placed the bottle at the edge of Shinzui's desk and left quickly.

"Shinzui-san-" Nagi stepped forward and put his hand over the bottle, "-You shouldn't mix--" Crawford pulled him back immediately.

Shinzui, losing coherence by the second, looked up with an expression so obvious that his garbled "What are you still doing here?" could have gone unsaid.

Crawford pushed his glasses up, maintaining his visible indifference, though Nagi's obvious discomfort at the grip on his arm proved otherwise. "Is there anything we can do before the service?"

"Service?" Shinzui struggled with the bottle.

"Ms. Torikata's wake."

"… Wake?" A wave of pills overcame Shinzui's desk.

Despite the many complaints I could list about being in this line of work, there was always a reason or two that reminded me why I didn't just get it over with and shoot every idiot who devoted himself money and greed.

I knocked my arm against Crawford's. "Never a dull day at the office..."

Shinzui fell over, smacking his cheek into the desk.

* * *

The wake itself was show and chandelier enough to put any of Takatori's gatherings to shame. Though the woman's existence had ended with no explanation, the event was a celebration of her life and the fact that her soul had moved on to better things.

Or something like that.

Before our arrival, Nagi'd attempted to explain it to me, but my novel got too interesting. To my luck, Farf and I didn't have to meet with Shinzui before the party, leaving more time for the book at our backroom posts. I was just rounding the corner of the last chapter when Farf's arm hooked around my neck.

I gave a start - finally - as his fingers sank into my shirt, and looked up to greet him.

"Well." He pressed his wrist pressed against my collarbone. "Have you been standing here all this time?"

"… That sick bastard," was all I could to say.

"That bad?"

I shoved the book into his free hand. His face pulled into an amused grimace. "Did he actually dip the guy into a vat of wax? That sounds messy."

I couldn't answer. You wouldn't believe how close we came to working with someone who actually liked to do that. A psychological mess waiting to happen. Fortunately, there were lines that even Crawford could not cross.

Farf kept his eye to the page. "Tell me again how you put up with this awful writing."

"I'm expanding my horizons."

"I thought you already covered crap years ago."

"It's a new era. Crap has been redefined. And his mother's a well-established--"

Farf was tugging my shirt back with his teeth. "Keep talking."

I looked down at his hand, which began to inch downward. "… Ever the romantic."

"You don't make those weird sounds unless I interrupt you while you're talking."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

A door slammed behind us. "Are you done?" Crawford's voice erupted behind us; "I was so sure we were actually working today."

We parted and turned. I glanced at my watch with the hope that this was our call to leave. It wasn't. "Just a minute short- Or two."

Crawford struggled to look amused. "Just tell me where he is."

"Who?"

"Nagi."

"We-" Farf looked to me as he replied, "-Haven't seen him."

"What did I tell you?" I said, "The bell. It works for cows. It'll work for him. Crawford--" I waved my hand and his tense expression flipped to me. "Your face is doing that thing again."

"You look worried," Farf supplied.

Crawford turned back to the party. "Nagi's not the only one who's missing."

The party's patrons didn't notice Shinzui's absence, and offered no help in finding him. Shinzui's driver, however, was a clogged fountain of information. He had some difficulty giving us what we needed until Crawford threatened to separate him from certain extremities.

So we were led to a secluded hotel room, the driver searching frantically through is pockets for the keycard with Crawford's gun pointed to his crotch. I took a chance and put my ear to the door while we waited.

"-If you bruise me, he'll know." It was Nagi's voice.

"And what will he do?" Shinzui scoffed. "He works for me-"

"-I promised him-"

"-He works for me now, just like you. Listen to me!"

Nagi whimpered. His voice laced with pain as he spoke again. "Shinzui …"

"You have to leave them."

"Please don't involve them."

"Are you scared of them? Or is it that they would let you go?"

"I'll protect Schwarz until I die. "

"Perhaps you aren't satisfied?" Shinzui continued musing. "Whatever problem you have, Unagi, ignoring it isn't going to make it go away. Do you have any idea what your brother risked for you? If a conflict arises between your… organization and-"

"My brother's business risks were his problems." Nagi stated. "Just as Torikata-san's problems belonged to her."

"I'm relieved your brother wasn't present to hear you say that." A brief silence followed, cut off by a cry audible beyond the walls. "If you've forgotten, your loyalty is engraved on your body--"

Just then, the door popped open and Crawford rushed past me.

"Craw--oof!" Nagi was pitched onto the floor at my feet as Crawford hauled Shinzui to his feet. Nagi's hand flew over his shirt as if it'd been open; he panted in relief when he knew he looked presentable.

Farf knelt next to him. "You all right?"

Nagi nodded, his expression betraying his horror. "Crawford!"

"I don't care who you are," Crawford growled as he threw Shinzui against the wall, "You're not touching him again!"

"Crawford, don't!" Nagi jumped to his feet, hanging onto Crawford's withdrawn fist with all his might. "Don't…"

Shinzui cracked a smile.

* * *

Crawford's face had turned a light shade of red by the time our feet hit the parking lot pavement. "Why are you defending him?!"

"It's part of our job!"

"That is the one service we provide. And it doesn't entail letting Shinzui touch you!"

"I wasn't-He wasn't touching me! It's his fiancee's wake, he's a little distraught right now."

"I'm sure with his connections he could have found another way to ease his pain, that is, if he isn't busy paying off his fiancee's killer."

"Why are accusing him of being the biggest criminal in Tokyo?"

"Why are you acting like he's not? You know very well he could be.-"

"-He's still a man with feelings!-"

"-That is not your responsibility!"

"He needs someone!!-"

"You're not his whore anymore!" Crawford froze when he realized the effect of his choice of words. We all did. A dull pain began to throb between my eyes.

"… His _whore_ ?" Nagi repeated. The expression on his face was halfway between betrayal and denial.

The label, misplaced in Crawford's frustration, was like a papercut to Nagi's fresh emotions. It was small, barely noticeable, but it got through deep enough to break his thin pale skin, deep enough to slice a nerve ending and to draw blood. Nagi shook his head, hoping the echo in his mind could be dispersed.

"… That's what you think of me?" Nagi continued faintly, his eyes closed.

"You know I didn't mean it that way. You have to understand--"

"No, I understand," Nagi whispered. He opened his eyes - they glistened with tears. "That was fair," he nodded slowly, "It's not like it isn't true, right?" When Crawford didn't respond, Nagi turned on his heel. "We should get back to the party."

"What am I supposed to think?!" Crawford stepped forward, grasping his elbow, "I didn't want you to come, to protect your safety. But I couldn't deny that you've had a hard time lately. You are here because you begged me. For his sake."

"Maybe we should go home," Farf suggested, catching Crawford's attention.

Crawford nodded.

"I don't want to go home," Nagi said simply.

"That isn't your decision," Crawford said, grabbing Nagi's wrist and dragging him along.

"Get your hand off of me."

It happened before I could even fathom the thought.

Crawford whirled Nagi around before releasing his arm, and used the very same hand to form a fist that would make a sickening noise as it made direct contact with Nagi's face.

/Oh crap,/ Farf sighed behind me.

I rubbed the back of my neck. My sentiments exactly. "Guys--," I tried to interrupt.

"--Schu, stay out of it!"

"--Schuldich, stay out of it!"

Well, at least they agreed on something.

"Let's get one thing straight," Crawford whispered harshly, still watching Nagi, "You are still part of Schwarz. I can forgive you being too close to this assignment and even your getting emotional - again, but don't forget that I am your leader. What I say goes, do you understand?"

"…"

"Do you understand?!"

"…Yes…" Nagi crossed his arms and his shoulders shook as he struggled to control his breathing. The tell-tale mark on his eye had already begun to form, barely visible through quivering wisps of hair.

Crawford wiped his offending hand along the line of his jacket pocket, as if it were coated in evil. He gave me a look that said, you let me do this? Then he reached out to get a better look at Nagi's eye. "Let's go now."

Nagi huffed. "You think I'll suddenly change my mind because you hit me."

"I don't see why it's so aggravating that I am concerned for your welfare."

"It's aggravating. Because you could fuck me for three and a half years and not give a shit about my life story. But just now it's a three-dimensional reality and just now it bothers you. Your control fixation? It gets in the way."

"Get in the car."

Nagi turned on his heel. "Even people like you don't get everything they want."

"Nagi," Crawford warned. Nagi didn't stop. "I'm not going to chase you."

"I never asked for it." His steps slowed as his voice rose shakily. "And I don't beg." His final word snipped at the bond they'd solidified just days before; the link gave in and disappeared as the door slammed closed.

/What the hell…/ Farf shook his head.

"I think that's what they call a teenager," I muttered, holding my head. "In the wild, they travel in packs." The dull throb in my head had zigzagged its way to behind my ears, about as dull now as one of Farf's knives.

Why couldn't I just live with normal people?!

"He's decided who he wants to stay with." Crawford turned back to the car. "Are you two coming?"

* * *

"I can't believe this. Not even a week and everything I've done is gone."

"Do you ever consider that you aren't always right?"

"Do you ever consider that you might be wrong?" I retorted. "Tell me, Crawford, what bothers you more: the fact that Nagi allowed himself to be pushed away, or the fact that it's now a possibility."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that at this point, it's not the competition between your rising stock and Shinzui's that bothers you most. I'm talking about how you yourself made the observation that he had the emotional capacity of a fish. Nagi was safe for you. Not only bound by your rule that none of us can die alone, but also by his apathy. It scares you that he reacts to you now."

Crawford shook his head. "What scares me is how far you managed to take this."

"What, make him functionally human again?"

"What you did to him can't be reversed!"

"And that's a bad thing? You know, maybe it would be less of problem if you weren't such an-" I stopped as Crawford's expression dared me to go on.

'What? What am I?"

"No." I shook my head. "I'm not going to give you a reason. We have enough problems as it is."

"-HEY!" It was then we finally noticed Farf's presence in the room. "Toss a fist now, or end it."

"What is it?" asked Crawford.

Farf puffed his cheeks out, saying nothing as he left, all but dragging us by our curiosities with him to the closed front door. "It's for you," he finally said, nodding to Crawford.

Crawford opened the door slowly. "Yes?"

"Crawford-san," the leading man, wound tighter than a fist flashed his wallet, "I am officer-" The rest of the introduction was muffled as the door slammed in his face.

"The police?!" Crawford nearly shouted.

"That's what I said," Farf replied. They both looked to me.

I sputtered. "Wh- Stop looking at me that way! I haven't done anything noticeably illegal for days!"

A woodpecker-like knock sounded on the door, then a muffled "We know you're there."

Crawford opened the door again. "May I ask what this is about?"

"Crawford-san, we need you to come with us."

"I'd rather not," he began to close the door again.

"If you don't come willingly-" a hand stopped the door, "-We will place you under arrest."

Crawford couldn't hold back his faint laughter. "Excuse me?"

"For the charge of murder, we are placing you under arrest."

"… That's not possible."

"With all due respect, we have witnesses who say a foreigner with a gun was the criminal. Some investigation has pointed to you."

"Who is it that you think I've killed?"

"He was said to frequent with you. Didn't you even know his name?" The officer gazed at Crawford with disgust. "The boy's name was Nagi Naoe."

owari

… Just kidding.

tbc

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A/N: Eesh! Two weeks turned into... a really long time. I have to admit I sort of forgot that this thing was sitting around. E_e;; Sorry about that. If anyone out there still reads this, thank you, and thanks to you who have reviewed in the past few months. I really want to finish this fic this winter, and I do have more parts written already, so hopefully it'll be done soon. But, yeah, thanks to the one (is that optimistic?) person who reads this. It means a lot to me. Really. =D And I swear there's more coming.