Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Razorblade Romance ❯ Track 006: Wicked Game ( Chapter 6 )

***This chapter is where the story connects fully into the Gluhen storyline, in particular, “Last Mission 6: No Reason.” So, be warned, I guess. I've taken a bit of dialogue directly from the episode, but not much. An idea of what goes on in this episode will help a lot.***

 

 

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Track 6: Wicked Game

 

 

The world was on fire; no one could save me but you.

It`s strange what desire will make foolish people do.

And I never dreamed that I'd use somebody like you;

And I never dreamed that I'd need somebody like you.

 

 

No, I wanna fall in love.

(This world is only gonna break your heart)

And I wanna fall in love

(This world is only gonna break your heart)

With you.

 

 

What a wicked game to play; to make me feel this way.

What a wicked thing to do; to let me dream of you.

What a wicked thing to say; you never felt this way.

What a wicked thing to do; to make me dream of you.

 

 

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“I love you, Kato.”

 

 

Yeah, I'd hoped that she would fall in love with the character of `Kato Yoshio'. It took me a while to perfect the act, to shape a person that identifies almost perfectly with Michelle's likes and dislikes, without seeming fake. I've done some ridiculous shit for Kritiker, but this has to be my absolute limit.

 

 

“I love you, too.”

 

 

My mind fills in another word, but luckily my mouth knows enough to stay shut. I can't jeopardise this ridiculous mission by letting Shel know that every time I declare my love, every time I touch her body, I'm imagining that it's a redheaded man who bears a female name in front of me. I guess it's easier knowing that she doesn't really love me, that she's talking to the flawless traveller rather than the screwed-up murderer…

 

 

When I joined Weiss, I made vows to myself. I'd always help a woman, I'd never lie to a woman, and I'd never harm a woman. These had all been broken long before now, but it still hurts to know that everything I've done, and am going to do on this mission, goes against those three promises.

 

 

“Happy six-month anniversary, babe.”

 

 

My empty words are punctuated with the gift that I give her. A cheap necklace, a tacky bauble on a chain that's just what she'd want to wear. I have her file, so it's not very difficult to know what to say and what to do. Years of scamming on anything with tits has given me the skills to make her scream with minimal emotional investment on my part; I've long been able to make a woman fall in love with me using just a few choice lines and properly placed touches.

 

 

The problem lies in the fact that the woman currently throwing her arms around my neck, pressing her breasts against my chest, sickens me to the very pit of my stomach. Hell, I can only get it up for her if I close my eyes; imagination steps in to shorten her hair, flatten her curves, scar her skin and strengthen her muscles. A few years ago, I would've loved being given a mission that consisted of fucking a beautiful woman's brains out `til she was practically unconscious, then simply copying the contents of her computer.

 

 

But a lot has changed since I was the easy-going playboy Kudoh, the bane of every father and older brother in Japan.

 

 

When Aya agreed to a proper relationship, I only made one vow; that as long as I had him, and even if I didn't, there would be no one else. I've made a lot of promises, to myself and everyone else, over the years that I've been alive. Most of them I never planned on keeping, and the others, well, if they got broken I wasn't going to tear myself apart over it. Except for the one I made Aya.

 

 

I was never planning on cheating. I didn't want anyone else, because the swordsman is all I need. And that's obvious, because even as Michelle's lips meet mine and our tongues tangle, all I can think about is Aya and how I'm betraying him.

 

 

She's awfully touchy-feely today…she wants me to fuck her, and because it's some contrived 6-month date from…when we first met, I guess, she expects me to do it. But…I can't. No, that's not it…I won't. Kudoh Yohji, not even getting a tingle from a woman's hands running over my stomach and dipping into the waist of my jeans…this is proof that I have to get away. I don't want to be here, playing out this ridiculous pantomime; I want to be home, in Japan, where I can see and touch the man I love.

 

 

If he still wants me. He knows full well what it is that I have to do…the mission reports we send back spell it out in far too much detail, and Aya always reads the reports. It's what he's done for as long as I've known him.

 

 

Subtly brushing my hand against my pocket while Michelle has her back to me, admiring her new trinket in the mirror, I hit the button that starts a test ring from my phone. Begging her pardon, I strike up a fake conversation with an imaginary workmate, desperately hoping that the phone doesn't legitimately ring. `Hanging up' quickly, I spin some bullshit about work emergencies and practically sprint from her house.

 

 

It's a tactic I've used many times. Although we've been `dating', or more accurately fucking, for months now, I've never spent the entire night with Michelle. I don't trust myself to not wake up with my hands around her throat; and as much as I want this over and her dead, I won't let it be like that.

 

 

So every night, I spend my time alone in my own bed, back at the apartment that Ken and I have been renting since coming to this country. At least, that's what happens when I'm not passed out in a gutter somewhere, drinking to keep away the dreams.

 

 

Tonight, I think that it's looking like another nap in a gutter for me, unless Ken finds me and drags me home. I'm grateful for what he does, but...he doesn't understand. He doesn't know how much this is hurting, having to pretend to be in love with an evil Esset whore while my gorgeous lover, or possibly ex-lover, remains silent and in another country.

 

 

He hasn't written…he hasn't called. The only indication I have to show me that Aya's still alive are brief, formal emails from Om-…Persia. They're short and always spaced exactly three weeks from the last, with none of the life I remember from the chibi I used to know. The kid I once knew as Omi has changed, and it tears me apart to know that he's just as emotionless and detached as the original Persia. Yeah, it hurts…not as much as being away from Aya does, but it's still a pain that I'd rather leave behind. And so I'm going to. It won't last forever; I'll wake up tomorrow afternoon with a massive headache, and I'll still be Kudoh Yohji, my lover will still be in another country, my mission to cheat on said lover will still stand, and my heart will still be breaking apart.

 

 

But for a few hours, I can forget everything. I gave up hard drugs years ago, and though the temptation rises on days like these, I'm not going any further than a metric fuck-ton of alcohol. Aya hates illicit drug use, after all.

 

 

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A swift punch to the gut brings me out of a delicious drunken stupor. Ken's lucky that I don't vomit all over his soccer jersey, he really should know better than whacking a hungover man in the gut. If I could open my eyes, he'd be getting a broken nose right about now, but…that's just not worth the effort.

 

 

Instead, I make some unintelligible grunts, and flop back against my bed. How I got here, I don't know. The last thing I remember is…a ridiculous amount of empty shot glasses and some woman who just wouldn't leave me the fuck alone. I s'pose that I walked home…or maybe Ken-…shit, he's still standing over me, isn't he. I can feel his shadow.

 

 

“Whaaaat, Ken-ken? Don't you have anything better to do than assault a defenceless, sleeping man?”

 

 

Yeah, not my best line ever, but I'm tired, hungover and the full gravity of my situation here in this country is crashing back to me, as it does whenever I manage to forget for just a couple of hours. I don't want to get out of bed…but if I fall asleep without self-medicating, the dreams come. Asuka…Aya…Neu…they never leave me alone. Asuka and Neu run their usual routine, taunts and torture. Aya, though…he hurts me the most. He tells me that the last words he spoke before I left, when he said that he loved me after my note, were nothing but a lie.

 

 

He says that, just as I'm lying to Michelle and fucking her without passion, he was doing the exact same thing to me. My dream-Aya taps into my deepest fears…and exploits them to tear me apart.

 

 

“Yohji…Yohji! Snap out of it, this is important. Look, don't zone out on me. Sorry `bout hitting you, but really, there's no other way to get you up when you're passed out. Believe me, I've tried. Anyway, we've gotta new message from…Persia.”

 

 

Ken always hesitates before saying `Persia'. He took Omi's leaving the hardest…the two were always close. It would almost be funny to hear his constant pausing if I didn't know where he was coming from.

 

 

“Nnggh…Alright, give me a couple of minutes. I'll be right out.”

 

 

Ken leaves the room, and I throw my hand out to fumble around on top of my cupboard. I know there's some painkillers here…my fingers grasp a well-used package and I pop a couple of pills out, dry-swallowing and steeling myself for getting out of bed.

 

 

Movement sends my brain into spasms but I fight through it, finding that, quite pleasantly, I don't seem to be in imminent danger of releasing the contents of my stomach over the carpet. Glancing down slowly, I see that I'm still wearing my jeans, but no shirt; that'll have to do. I run a hand through my hair, still vaguely freaked by how short and tightly curled it is, and walk into the lounge room where the computer is set up.

 

 

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A silhouette flickers into life on the screen; a distorted voice begins to speak. It's a smaller figure than we used to have, and the voice still isn't as deep…Even Persia can't hide Omi's old physique.

 

 

“Balinese, Siberian, the time has come. Your mission in Europe is coming to a close, and tonight you will run your assault on the Esset facility. Eliminate any members there, but your main target will be Ms Michelle Craig. Ensure that she is removed, and destroy the buildings. Men, deny the tomorrows of the Dark Beasts.”

 

 

Huh, a familiar sign off; Omi has truly taken up the mantle of Persia, Kritiker's leader. He's given us the orders for the beginning of the end, so it's almost time to kill Michelle and return…home. Oh, God, if Aya isn't waiting…

 

 

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I look to my left, where a gigantic clock tower stands, its face level with the roof of the building I'm standing on. The hands point to show that it's eleven fifty, the time that Michelle is supposed to be entering the third floor.

 

 

She's surely following the trail of dead bodies, uniformed minions that Ken and I cut down as I went for the roof and he went for the control centre. The path should bring her directly to me, where she'll see Kudoh Yohji, the true me, rather than the illusion that is Kato Yoshio. But for the torture that she's put me through, the pain that I had to endure in actually touching that body, she's not getting out of this easily.

 

 

I'm not a sadistic person…but maybe Aya's rubbing off on me. I've planned a mental assault to go with the physical, to bring down her concentration and focus. I've lied to this woman so much already that it's easy to keep going. I'll tell her that I love her; I'll ask her to come away with me. I won't mean any of it.

 

 

This, the conclusion to the longest mission I've ever had to take part in, is ending in revenge. Revenge for me, for Aya, for everything that we've been put through because this whore is an Esset puppet. I've made her dream of me; I've made her need me. She's fallen in love with the carefully calculated front I put up. Now, I'm going to make it abundantly clear that I never felt the same, that it was all a set-up.

 

 

For Aya.

 

 

Standing in silence, the wind whipping my coat around my legs, there's nothing to do but think. I've been acting the part with Michelle for six months…yet I feel nothing about what I'm going to do, besides a sick satisfaction that unnerves me slightly. She's just a tool for me here…it's all been a pre-written script, played out perfectly from the very moment that I `accidentally' bumped into her, making her drop her handbag; from the moment I picked that bag up, handed it to her with a charming smile, and offered to buy her a drink to make up for the disrespect…

 

 

Eleven fifty-five. Any moment now, I'll hear footsteps coming from the metal staircase, and the door will open, showing Michelle her death. Maybe, just maybe, standing up here above the rest of the world, wind dragging through my coat, moonlight illuminating the scene, I look like an angel of death.

 

 

As if reacting to the religious reference, the breeze picks up my necklace, bringing it to settle against my chest with a small weight. I bought two near-identical crosses just days after Aya and I started our relationship…I haven't taken my own off since. I know that he wore his, as it would sometimes appear from beneath his shirt, and be revealed whenever he undressed…but does he still wear it, even now? If I could just see him…he wouldn't need to say a thing, if he was still wearing that necklace…If he's still holding onto that small gift, I'll know that he loves me. The necklace I bought him…a proper gift, unlike the piece of shit I gave Michelle. And she'll never know it.

 

 

My earpiece crackles into life, Ken's hushed voice coming through the connection.

 

 

“Alright Balinese, I'm almost to the command centre. Are you in position?”

 

 

Ah, reliable Ken. If he wasn't here with me, if I'd been left to carry out this mission alone…I probably would've simply disappeared one night, bank accounts cleared and possessions left behind. I contemplated it more than once, actually. Just leaving this whole life behind, leaving Weiss…even leaving Aya. Those were dark days, about two months ago, when I felt like the pain would never plateau. Ken had to get my stomach pumped once…alcohol poisoning can be very dangerous.

 

 

It was only one day when he screamed his head off at me, telling me to shape up, that I finally came to my senses. I realised that it was no good to leave, and that abandoning Aya, even if he didn't still love me, was one of the most foolish things that I ever could have done. It was a painful decision, but in the deepest part of my soul, I knew that if there was even the slightest chance that Aya would take me back, I had to return to him. So I lived on, hoping that someone would be there to catch me if I ever did really fall.

 

 

“Yes, we're all good here. Wait, I think I hear her at the bottom of the stairs. Balinese out.”

 

 

The click of heels on metal alerts me to Michelle's approach. Turning fully towards the clock, I can see that it has just hit two minutes to midnight. My brain, even in mission mode, immediately supplies a vague memory, words that fit my position…

 

 

Two minutes to midnight…the hands that threaten doom…

 

 

My fingers play with my watch, running over the wire release lever until I hear the footsteps near the door. As soon as the handle clicks I raise two fingers to my lips, a haunting melody whistling out that I know Michelle will recognise.

 

 

“That song…I've heard it before.”

 

 

I murmur my assent. Of course you know it, my dear, I've sung the actual song for you many times. It has to be painfully obvious to her now, what's about to happen; and who is about to make it happen.

 

 

“You told me that you would never lie to a woman. Was that also a lie?”

 

 

Yep, she gets it. I can tell from her tone that it's a rhetorical question, and I'm glad. Michelle understands. I can lie to her almost as easily as I can breathe, and our conversation goes on without my full attention. Her words filter through my brain and my mouth supplies the appropriate responses, yet I never have to tear many of my thoughts away from what will happen after this.

 

 

I barely even look at her until she pulls out a gun.

 

 

“Let's end these games here. Let's end all of it here. The memories that linger in my mind, my femininity, and faults that you took advantage of. All of that will die within me and with you. Right here and right now!”

 

 

Games? Yes, this is all an elaborate game…and there can only be one winner. Counting down the seconds, I raise my hand again. With an instinctive showmanship, I click my fingers just as the timer on the first bomb expires. The clock tower, now facing my back, goes off like a bitch in heat. The fire spreads quickly, and soon enough the entire world looks like it could be alight, the limited view from the roof giving itself over to this fantasy. The world is on fire, and no one can save me but…Aya.

 

 

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Michelle…She's…she's Z-class…I never had the slightest idea…When she stood up again, I felt like I was in a dream. She should've been dead, sent to her demise at my hands, like Asuka and Neu. But when she started to scream `Die', so similar to how a certain man used to act…I knew how to make her lose her control.

 

 

In a last-ditch attempt to live, spitting in the face of certain death, I told her that I loved her. A lie, of course, and one I could only spin because she was acting like a cheap imitation of Aya, my dangerously beautiful Aya…It worked. She lost her focus and I was given the time to press the final trigger. When the explosion hit her, I could have sworn that she was flying away with a smile on her face; was she really that desperate to die, or did my false words give her some sort of peace? Or maybe she knows that she may just become a feature of my dreams, another woman to line up with Asuka and Neu for the nightly torture I've become accustomed to.

 

 

It's with this final thought in mind that I say my last words to the woman who I've been courting for half a year. The mission's over…my heart is broken, my arm is broken, my mind is broken, but…I'm alive, and I'm going home.

 

 

“Wait over there first. We'll be ending up in the same place sooner or later.”

 

 

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It's a restless plane trip back to Japan. I'm desperate to lay my eyes on Aya for the first time in too long, and yet I'm deathly afraid that he's taken my betrayal to heart and given up on me. I wouldn't blame him if he did abandon me. It's not like I ever gave him proof of my intention to stay faithful…if he doesn't want me anymore, at least I can still see him. That will never be enough, but if it's all I can get, then I will accept it.

 

 

If only he could read my thoughts, know how this broke me apart…but there's nothing I can do for that. I simply have to wait; our plane lands soon. I don't expect him to be at the airport for a tearful reunion, I wouldn't expect that even if he'd kept up a constant stream of communication. As long as I know he's alive and that I can see him eventually, an extra hour away from him will be okay. I'll survive this. I just hope that he still wants me, even after such unforgivable actions.

 

 

Aya…I love you. Please…