Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Playing the Part ❯ Part Five ( Chapter 5 )

Part Five

The afternoon dragged on worse than a soap opera and in Ken's humble opinion, it was twice as pointless. Schuldich made a production of parading him around all of Brad's hotspots like some kind of pseudo-trophy wife. It was embarrassing and none of Ken's complainings and whinings swayed the German in the least. The guy, Ken quickly learned, was stubborn as shit. Either that or just too damn stupid to know when to give up. In any case, Schuldich was determined to show Brad that he didn't really need him...when clearly he did. And since it was pretty much pointless to argue, Ken allowed himself to be traipsed through Tokyo's foreign business district with great reluctance while blaring out graphic death threats in his mind for Schuldich to hear. That provided amusement for some time but even threats of multiple lacerations and disembowelment could tire after fifty plus times. So he went back to complaining and whining.

And then, finally it was done with.

"What a great afternoon," Schuldich commented as they wove their way through the crowded streets. "Brad's gonna be so pissed."

"Yeah well that makes two of us," Ken grumbled with great feeling. He shoved his bangs from his forehead and sighed. It had turned into a bloody hot afternoon.

"You're done for today," Schuldich assured, stopping by the curb. He hailed at a passing taxicab before seeing that it was full. "I just need to pick up some papers for Brad and then we can do whatever you want."

Ken perked up at that. "I wanna go back home and play PlayStation for a few hours! I miss all my WWE wrestling games. I wanna play Smackdown III."

"Simple times for a simple boy." Schuldich shook his head. "Needless to say, I'm not surprised."

"Oh like your life is such an exemplary prototype," Ken retorted, scoffing. "Seriously, who goes cavorting around with some no-name trying to make their significant other jealous? Talk about your dumb-and-a-half schemes."

"I'm taking a creative approach to the situation," the German replied calmly. Clearly, he was unfazed. "It's all about dignity Ken. I refuse to hurl myself at Brad's feet, sobbing and begging for attention. He needs to know what he's missing."

A mental picture of Schuldich hamming it up on the floor made Ken grin. "He probably knows what he's missing and that's why he's copping out. Who'd want a paranormal psycho adding clutter to the background?"

"Clutter? You really know how to wound me Ken." Schuldich patted his chest. "Gets me right here, old boy."

Ken snorted. "Your heart's on the other side genius."

One red brow arch, mildly surprised. "So you do have a double-digit IQ number. I'm quite impressed."

"You're not funny jackass!"

"I don't expect a simple guy like you to be able to appreciate all my intellectual witticisms...of which I have many."

Ken stuck his tongue out. "Doesn't sound like Brad does either."

A passing taxicab finally slowed down for them. "But he will," Schuldich promised, determination glinting in his eyes.

"You suck," Ken announced, shoving the redhead out of the way. He entered the car first and sighed. It was air-conditioned and it felt great to sit down after all that pointless walking.

Schuldich slid in after him and gave the sullen-faced driver directions.

Ken arranged his schoolbag comfortably next to him. "You know what I think?"

Schuldich leaned back against the leather upholstery. "You think? That's news to me."

He ignored that. "I think you need a hobby or something. This obsession what Brad is unhealthy."

"Tell me more psychology man," Schuldich said, smirking.

"You're obsessed with a jerk," Ken lectured. "Maybe stamp collecting or buried treasure digging will help alleviate the pressure. Do something productive. Volunteer. Help the poor. Go to-"

"I'm helping you aren't I?" Schuldich tousled his hair.

"You know what I mean," Ken huffed, jerking his head away.

"Not really. Before I start up with the excess of philanthropy, I need to help myself. And you've agreed to help me, in case you've forgotten."

"It just seems so pointless," Ken countered. "I mean if you're gonna-"

"You don't know Brad," Schuldich interrupted. "He possessive."

"Well there's a load off my mind," Ken grumped. "He can get his mob buddies to arrange an 'accident' for me and there goes our deal."

Schuldich laughed. "You're cute when you pout."

Ken pouted. "I don't pout dickwad."

"Brad doesn't like it when people call me names "

Ken leaned back and groaned. "I should just call my mom now and tell her to start making funeral arrangements."

"I can recommend some people," Schuldich supplied helpfully. "It's happened before you know...Brad killing people I don't like."

Ken glowered hotly. "I hate you."

~*~*~*~*~

The papers Schuldich needed to pick up for Brad were held by someone who worked inside one of Tokyo's largest shopping malls. Schuldich said nothing about who this person was or where they worked or what the papers were and Ken figured that it wasn't his place to ask, despite the fact that he was wildly curious. Schuldich simply told him to meet him in front of the bookshop at the mall's front entrance in a half an hour. Then he strode off.

The mall was gigantic and Ken, never really one for directions, soon found himself lost. He wandered past dozens of stores, through thick groups of shoppers and tried not to notice how happy everyone looked. Really, it was pointless to think about Yohji but now that Schuldich wasn't around to distract him, Ken found that his thoughts kept returning to his ex. He knew it was pathetic, it wasn't like he had plans to be with Yohji forever, but still. They'd had good times together and Yohji was a caring, thoughtful person...or so he'd thought. He could have fallen in love with the blond and that was something that scared him. Was his judgment so off that he'd only fall for guys who used and hurt him? Was he secretly a sucker for pain?

Sighing, Ken found himself heading towards the nearest payphones and he hated himself for it.

"You're such a fucking spaz," he muttered, digging through his schoolbag for money.

He shoved money into the phone and held his breath as he waited to check his answering machine. He had to know whether Yohji had phoned him, had to know whether he was even sorry or wanted to explain or-

"Ken?"

Ken's heart vaulted into his throat and he was breathless, as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Yohji's voice filtered through and it surprised him, partially because he didn't think Yohji would phone him and partially because he hoped that he would.

Fuck he was pathetic.

"Ken...are you there? Please pick up if you are. We need to talk. I need to...I sorry Ken. Believe that if you can't believe anything else. Please...I want...I need to explain. Call me back soon?"

Clenching his eyes shut, Ken let his forehead bang down softly against the wall behind the payphone. Relief washed over him just as clearly as disappointment did. Yohji wanted to talk to him, he was sorry...that was what he wanted, wasn't it?

But the surprises weren't over.

Just as Ken was getting his bearings back, about to hang up the phone, another voice spoke up. It was a quiet, familiar voice that he never thought he'd hear again.

Gooseflesh broke out onto his arms and to say he was shocked was the biggest understatement of the year. Yohji's voice had made him weak-kneed but this, this was enough to render him damn well comatose.

"Ken this is Ran. My number's still the same. Phone me when you get a chance, please."

Fujimiya Ran. His ex-boyfriend previous to Yohji. The cold, silent man with whom Ken had fallen for, fast and hard. Ran sounded exactly the same, with impassive words that bordered upon curt. His tone revealed nothing, like always. It was as though time stood still and nothing had changed.

Ken slammed the phone down, unable to help his shaking fingers.

It was the 'please' that did it. 'Please' wasn't a word Ran used often and for him to use it now was the only indication that he wanted to speak to Ken badly.

"Fuck," he whispered and without thinking he was sliding more money into the phone while fumbling through his pockets for the paper Schuldich had given him. He yanked out the crumpled piece of paper and hastily dialed Schuldich's cell phone. Schuldich's voicemail came on instead and Ken plowed through with a rushed, breathy message that sounded incredibly lame.

"It's me, Ken. I'm sorry if you waited for me but I had to go back to my apartment. Something came up. I'd rather you didn't stop by. Um...I guess I'll phone you later then."

As he headed towards the escalators, Ken carefully didn't think about why he was leaving or why he felt the need to talk to both Yohji and Ran from the safety of his own home. He just knew that he needed to be alone. He didn't want Schuldich reading all his stupid thoughts and watching as he made a fool of himself. But despite his best efforts, one thought echoed in his mind for the entire trip home.

What could Ran want with him?