Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Painting You Gold ❯ 00 Touch ( Prologue )

I've this silly thought in my head…

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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 in conjunction with character death, feelings, nonconsensual sex, original characters, shota, soap operatic/supernatural-type twists, unpardoned French, Weiß, and yakuza.

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

0 ~ Touch

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"What happened?"

Crawford's words charged through the air like lead. I swiveled my head to see him past two guards - standing sternly in the middle of our fray - then glanced at Farfarello. The burst was more an order than a question, to which neither Farf or I wished to reply. But Crawford's sudden appearance had frozen our aggressors, and, with the flight of our fists, we were free of the distraction.

"Have either of us ever mentioned-" I grabbed Farf's shoulder for balance and gave it a pat as I stepped through the bodies "-That your posture makes you look phall--"

"Schuldich," said Crawford, in solemn warning now. His eyes followed my approach.

"Well, I ran out of gel just this morning," I offered, "But I think I'll make it through the day just fine."

Slowly, Crawford's lips peeled apart to speak again; "Farfarello, where is he?"

"Yofun," Farf muttered as he absently rubbed his head. The blood slicked his short spikes down. "Grabbed him up."

I tilted my head. /And he's not the first person to do it today, is he?/

Smirking disappointment spilled onto Crawford's expression before he turned to leave, flashing his open palm as a sign for us to follow. I wondered if we should turn the lights off in the now-empty rooms as we passed through. "You got here fast enough."

"Despite the difficulties you've had-" Crawford grabbed my jacket sleeve before shooting a straggling security guard, "-Zurui is dead. With one co-conspirator in the grave, Yofun wants a trade."

"But not as much as you do, right?" Yofun appeared before us, holding onto a calm Nagi with a chokehold and a cocked gun to the head. "Crawford-san, I believe I have something important of yours."

Crawford quirked an eyebrow. "And what makes you think that?"

Yofun smiled. "You know, in all the time you've worked for me, you never left him alone. I wondered, what kind of man would keep a child in a world like ours?-" At this, Nagi dissented. Yofun tightened the chokehold, not satisfied until Nagi's fingers had begun to pry.

A soft breath escaped Crawford's lips.

"I'm sorry," Yofun went on, "Does this bother you?" He loosened his lips into a smirk.

Farfarello hurled a knife at the wall behind Yofun, missing his arm by an inch. Crawford put his arm out to stop the second blade, coolly asking, "What do you want?"

"I want to walk away from this. With Zurui's share of the money. Without having to look back."

"No good," Crawford said immediately.

"No good?" Yofun maintained his smirk, an echo now of what glory faded from his eyes.

"No." Crawford nudged his glasses up. "I hope your hand feels better, by the way."

The "What?" that had formed on Yofun's lips was answered instantly as Farf's knife - in Nagi's telekinetic grasp - flew up at his wrist with enough force to slice his shooting hand clean off. Blood exploded from the stump as Nagi slid from Yofun's hold. Nagi rolled to face Yofun and watched the screaming hoodlum slam against the wall, the snap of his spine bringing silence back to the night.

"…Moron," Nagi cursed breathlessly. He scrubbed at his face with his sleeve.

Crawford nudged Yofun's hand with his shoe, the struggle between irritation and satisfaction obvious in his expression. "Nagi." He dragged the toe of shoe to wipe the blood off.

Nagi examined his sleeve. "Yes?"

"That was unnecessary."

Without moving to get up, Nagi turned. "… You weren't going to kill him?"

"Be more careful next time," Crawford warned, already halfway down the hall. "Then none of us will have to deal with these petty vendettas."

"I'm fine, by the way," Nagi muttered, jumping back to his feet. Farf caught his shoulders as he slipped on some blood.

"I know."

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A/N: Due to life being an inconsiderate monkey, what finally ensues from hereon in shall henceforth be known as the recognizable and quite sustained, yet solidified and changed ReWrite. I love every single one of you who read, even if you didn't review (thanks to you all), and the story's still basically the same up to chapter 8, but… After two years, my outlook, writing, and intentions have endured renovation with ever more to go. Thanks again, anyway, I am truly a mortal among gods.