Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Skeleton Jar ❯ Day Dawned Dark ( Chapter 3 )

Skeleton Jar
Part 3: Day Dawned Dark
By: Omni
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Dislcaimer, warnings, etc. found in first chapter.
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At first Schuldig thought he had messed up and somehow wandered into the wrong dreamer's mind. It was just a small office, nothing really that amazing about it, and nothing like what he had seen in any of Kudou's other dreams. But then the office chair swiveled around and there the blond man sat, cigarette between his lips and a focused expression in on his face as he read over a file. Was Kudou dreaming about being a salaryman or something? That just didn't seem like him… But no, this dream had the same taste of memory that the last one had, in the scene right before Kudou tried to kill some woman.

“Yohji!” Speak of the devil. The woman from the other dreams burst into the office, grinning from ear to ear. “Yohji, guess what!” she squealed, slamming her hands on his desk in her excitement. Kudou looked up at her, bemused yet smiling, but was unable to respond before she prattled on. “Ichiro asked me to dinner! Can you believe it?!”

Schuldig raised a brow as he watched, noting how Kudou's smile seemed far more forced, his eyes darkening with sadness and something worse. “That's great!” Standing, Kudou walked around the desk to give her a congratulatory hug. “I know you've been after him for a while, Asuka. Way to go.”

“Thanks,” she sighed happily, returning the hug. “I really love Ichiro. We're going to get married someday, I think.” That was fast, Schuldig thought with a silent scoff.

“Why, Asuka?” If this had been the real world, Schuldig would not have been able to hear Kudou's words, they were spoken so softly. This was a dream, however, and Schuldig was inside Kudou's mind. He heard the whisper as if it had been uttered into his own ear.

Just like before, things changed in a flash. Instead of holding her to him, Kudou had slammed the woman against a wall. The wall's wood paneling started to decay, peeling away to reveal a strange mixture of raw flesh and rusted metal—as if it were made from the remains of cyborgs. Blood trails ran down from the areas of flesh, causing the rust stains on the grafted areas of metal. There was no clear discernable line separating the flesh from the metal, the two flowing together flawlessly. Just as with the last dream, Kudou's hands had found their way to the woman's throat, and she kicked and struggled to break free.

“That's right,” a voice encouraged, causing Schuldig and Kudou to both turn their heads in search of the source. A man stood down the hall—for the office had melted into a long corridor of flesh-and-metal walls. Without even scanning Kudou's mind, Schuldig was easily able to identify this man. He had dark blond hair that was long enough to secure in a ponytail down his back. Dark green eyes laughed at Kudou as a disgusting smirk twisted the handsome man's lips. Except for the shape of the eyes, his paler complexion, and the extended length of his hair, this man was the spitting image of Kudou. It was uncanny. Schuldig had never known someone to look so much like his father as Kudou obviously did.

“No…” Kudou practically whimpered, his eyes wide in fear and disbelief.

“Just squeeze a little tighter. That's all you need to do.” The man was merely a few feet from Kudou now, his smirk growing and the laughter in his eyes mocking. “Shut her up. Shut the bitch up forever, son.”

“No,” Kudou repeated as if pleading, but his hands didn't move from the position on the woman's neck.

“I knew you'd always end up like him,” scoffed an unfamiliar woman's voice. Kudou and Schuldig snapped their attentions back to the woman against the wall, both surprised to see that she had changed. Instead of the Asuka girl, it was a woman who was a little older, with tan skin and light brown eyes in the same shape as Kudou's. Her long brown hair was matted against the sticky wall and tangled around Kudou's fingers. With sadness and accusation in her eyes, the woman reached out a trembling hand to caress Kudou's cheek. “So much like him.”

“No!” Kudou objected again, though his hands tightened on the neck, cutting off any more words the woman may have attempted. Terror filled the air, being the single strongest emotion the dreamer was experiencing. It caused Schuldig to start to feel it as well, even though he didn't know these people—even though he didn't care.

Kudou was on the verge of tossing himself out of the nightmare, however, and Schuldig could not allow that. He didn't want to leave Yohji's mind and dreams so soon. Without allowing Kudou to “see” him, Schuldig walked up to younger of the two blonds. “Calm,” whispered the German, reaching out his hand as if to touch Kudou, but pulling back just before contact was made. Instantly, the dream shifted. Schuldig and Kudou were standing alone—though to Kudou, he was by himself—at the base of a stepped path. A serene pond stretched out before them, with a weathered stone pathway that wound around it. They stood beneath a torii, and Schuldig could see part of a small shrine when he turned to look up the stepped path. It looked like they were set in the middle of a forest, no signs of civilization. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and Schuldig was quite impressed Kudou's mind had come up with it. It tasted like a mix of partial memories, most likely fragmented perceptions of sights from childhood. None of the memories felt recent. Schuldig felt a little sad that it didn't exist in real life, thinking it would have been nice to visit the actual place in real life with Kudou sometime. That gave him pause, and he wondered at the strange desire.

Just why would he want to go on a date with Kudou out to a woodland shrine? Were they going to have a picnic? He snorted softly to himself at the absurdity, then turned to see what Kudou was up to now. The other man seemed transfixed by the pond, for his green eyes had yet to turn away from it. Then, with a strange little sigh, Kudou turned and started up the stepped path. Curious, Schuldig followed him. When they reached the shrine, Kudou pulled some coins from his pocket and tossed them into the offering box before clapping, bowing, and praying in the proper order. Even though the prayer was not vocalized, Schuldig heard it whispering through his own mind as Kudou thought it. “I'm still waiting.”

Letting his eyes wander from Kudou, Schuldig was startled to see a strange dog-like creature with a raccoon face peering at them from the underbrush. After finishing his prayer, Kudou turned and stared at the creature as well, but he didn't seem nearly as surprised by its presence. With another soft sigh, the blond turned to walk back down the path towards the pond. Schuldig trailed behind him again, casting surreptitious glances back at the odd creature. When he reached the pond, Kudou kept walking, wading in until he was thigh deep and then diving into the water. His clothes didn't weigh him down as they should, but instead it was if they were merely extensions of his body, gliding weightlessly through the cool pond. Even though he stopped at the shore, Schuldig felt the water as if it were brushing along his own skin. Farther and farther Kudou swam out into the pond, but he never seemed to be getting any closer to the other side.

---

Melodic beeping startled them both into wakefulness, and Yohji cursed under his breath as he rolled over to reach for his pants on the floor by the bed. Grumbling, Schuldig stretched an arm out and hooked it around Yohji's waist, pulling him back into his embrace after the blond found his pants. With a little hum, Yohji allowed himself to enjoy the warmth of Schuldig's body pressed against his back before he focused on the task of retrieving his cell phone from his pants pocket.

“Nnello?” he slurred groggily into the phone, his eyes barely even cracked open.

“You better either be dead or captured by a horrible enemy, or else Aya will make you wish you were.”

“G'mornin' to you, too, Ken,” Yohji replied with a suppressed yawn. “Why's he mad now?”

“Are you serious? You never came home last night. You didn't even call any of us to check in. But, hey, setting that aside, you're also late for work.”

“Just switch shifts with me.” The solution seemed quite obvious to Yohji, and he wondered why Ken couldn't have come up with that on his own without waking Yohji up at the ungodly hour of—what time was it, again?

“Already did. And I told Aya that it was planned ahead of time so that I'd be free later on today in order to play soccer at the park.”

Ah, so Ken had already come up with the solution himself. Well, that certainly didn't explain why he had to wake Yohji up, then… “Great! So why the fuck did you call me?”

“To let you know two things: one, you owe me; two, you're on Aya's shit list.”

“I'm always on Aya's shit list. It's a talent of mine.”

Schuldig chucked softly into Yohji's hair and started trailing his finger tips up and down along the blond's stomach and hips. Somehow managing to keep his breath steady, Yohji shifted until his ass was pressed firmly against Schuldig, and arched his body into the caresses. The fingers pressed more firmly, no longer teasing grazes but instead quickly becoming needy strokes. Schuldig's morning erection was nestled pleasantly within the crease of Yohji's ass, and he rocked his hips slowly to obtain some friction.

“I don't think it's a talent unique to you, Yohji,” Ken was saying through the phone, but Yohji only partially registered it, the majority of his attention being otherwise engaged.

“Might be right `bout that, Ken,” Yohji conceded, with a distant thought that he hoped Ken would interpret his groan-like voice as a symptom of grogginess. “I'll make sure to avoid him for a bit when I get back. Thanks for trading shifts with me. Really do owe you. Big time.”

“Yeah, well, just don't forget. I'll see ya later, Yohji.”

“Hn.” As soon as he had the phone clicked off and tossed aside, he felt Schuldig's teeth sink playfully into the back of his neck. “Fuck,” he gasped, rocking his hips eagerly in response.

“As soon as I can find my wallet and the other condom, yes.”

---

Perhaps he really was developing a thing for redheads, Yohji mused as he watched Aya slice through the dark beast d'jour. God, that man had a nice body. As if hearing these thoughts, Aya turned and locked eyes with Yohji. In a detached sort of way, the blond wondered if it was odd that he found Aya sexy even when covered in blood—or, odder yet that he thought the blood added to the appeal. Yes, he supposed there was most certainly something wrong with him. Aya was still looking at him, their target a bloody mess at his feet, and Yohji had no idea how to read the other's face.

“Abyssinian, report,” Omi's voice ordered in a crackle over their earpieces.

Without breaking eye contact, Aya uttered a soft “Mission accomplished.”

They left together in silence, their eyes falling away from each other once they started moving. After the contact was broken, it made no attempt to reconnect. Yohji felt a tension between them that didn't exist before, but he wasn't certain if they both felt it. He wanted to ask Aya what the look earlier had meant, but he couldn't think of the proper way to phrase the question. Besides, what if he was totally off base in his assumptions, and Aya had no interest in him? Wouldn't he be outing himself by bringing up the possibility? None of Weiß knew he was bi, and he had no desire to enlighten them. Well, unless it meant scoring with the most attractive member aside from himself… That was as likely to happen as an amputee's leg growing back, though. Still, it was nice to dream.

---

It had been nearly two weeks since he and Kudou had spent the night together, and Schuldig found himself impatient to do it again. Usually he would have grown bored by now, but something about Kudou continued to fascinate him. Perhaps it was because the man was so deliciously insane, his mind warped by some very deep-seeded issues. Then again, it could just be because the man was an incredible fuck. Or, Schuldig suggested to himself with a smirk, it was the combination of these things which made Kudou so utterly addictive.

Whatever the cause, Schuldig remained hooked and continued trying to find his dreams at night. Finally, he was once again successful and slid eagerly into the vision. He did not like what he found, however. Well, it wasn't that he was angry. No, certainly not. To be angry would imply that he was jealous. To be jealous would imply he cared. So, he was not angry. Just…displeased.

Kudou appeared to be having a sex dream about one of his coworkers. It was the redhead with a girl's name. No worries; this could easily be remedied. Exerting his power slowly, Schuldig watched with pride as short, blood-toned red hair grew and faded into the color of flame. Features shifted, and the eyes staring at Kudou with hunger changed from deep violet to bright blue. Now all he had to do was step into his doppelganger's place, which he did without a moment's pause.

“Schuldig…” Kudou murmured into his ear with a groan. Yes, this was much better. It was unacceptable for Kudou to want anyone else; Kudou belonged to Schuldig. He was Schuldig's new and most interesting toy, which no one else was allowed to touch. “I missed you,” came another pleasure-filled whisper, which was quickly followed up by kisses along Schuldig's neck.

I missed you, too. The thought went unsaid, and Schuldig told himself that he never thought it. He didn't miss Kudou, he just missed fucking him. That's all. That's probably all Kudou meant, as well.

“Stay with me,” Kudou requested with a sense of urgency and need. Schuldig felt the man's hands along his body, feeling so familiar now and yet still new and exciting. Pleasure spiked up through him, and he wasn't certain if they were actually having sex yet. It felt like it. It felt as though he was deep inside Kudou, but at the same time it felt as if Kudou was deep inside him. Memories of their time together overlapping. Being taken by Kudou on the bed, taking Kudou the next morning from behind, being taken again in the shower when they finally managed to roll out of the comfortable covers. All of it was mixing together in his mind—and most likely Kudou's as well—until all he could feel was the pleasure. Through this distracting cloud of pure pleasure, Schuldig heard Kudou speak more words. He couldn't make out what exactly was being said, but a thought bubbled in his mind before being washed out with the pleasure: it sounded almost as if Kudou were casting a spell or reciting a mantra. His voice was low, soft, continuous, and set to the tempo of their thrusts. Schuldig didn't give it another thought, too distracted by trying to figure out who was being fucked. Eventually he gave up and decided that since this was a dream, it was perfectly acceptable for them to be performing both roles simultaneously. So, he abandoned himself fully to the pleasure.

When he woke up, he was drenched in sweat, his sheets twisted around him like coils of a large snake. He had not climaxed, which he found to be a wonder, but his cock was hard to the point of pain and trapped tightly against his stomach by the sheet. As soon as he untangled himself, he quickly finished himself off to the memory of Kudou pushing him against the cold shower wall and fucking him. Firm hands on his hips, sharp teeth at his shoulder, hard cock deep inside him, and a heavy sack slapping wetly against his own.

He needed to see Kudou again. As wonderful as the dream sex had been, it was nothing compared to the real thing. Schuldig quickly showered, dressed, and made ready to go visit Kudou again. Before he could make it out the apartment door, however, Crawford's voice stopped him short.

“You aren't going to see him right now,” Crawford averred from his place in the arm chair, newspaper spread out across his lap.

“Perhaps you should get your talent checked out,” drawled Schuldig in response, “because that's exactly what I'm doing.”

“No. You aren't.”

With a dramatic sigh, the telepath turned from the door in order to face his leader. “And why, pray tell, am I not? Is there a mission?”

“No. Though I could assign you one, if it would prevent you from taking what might just be the most idiotic course of action you could accomplish.” Suddenly Crawford paused, then nodded his head once as he amended: “Alight, perhaps not the most, but it's pretty up there.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I'm going to get laid. That's not idiotic, that's brilliant. Perhaps you just don't understand because you haven't tried it yourself. I highly recommend it, Brad. If you'd like, I can find someone for you. Or—since I'm such a helpful, considerate fellow—I could personally introduce you to the wonderful world of sex.”

“Would that keep you here?” Sharp brown eyes stared levelly across the room, catching Schuldig's attention and holding them with a biting grip.

Schuldig let his flippant air drop away and his perpetual smirk flattened into a straight line on his lip. “What's this about?”

“You're messing with things, Schuldig. With the timeline.” Crawford's eyes barely blinked, never breaking their intent stare. “Remember I told you I had a plan? Remember that's the reason why I did what I could to get our team assigned here in Japan? Well, this man you've met is part of the plan. Him and his team.”

“Great. Then it will be easier to convince them to help us if I'm fuck buddies with him, right?”

“They aren't supposed to know they're helping us. They are supposed to remain our enemies, Schuldig. They need to hate us—fight us. It's the only way to fool those old relics and catch them in my trap.”

“What the fuck does Kudou and his team have to do with the Elders? He works for Kritiker.”

“I know who he works for. I know who he works with. Trust me, Schuldig. The pieces of the puzzle are slowly but surely shifting into place. Soon it will be time to act, and we will have our first confrontation with his team. He shouldn't know you, and especially shouldn't have an attachment to you.”

Ripping his gaze free of Crawford's piercing stare, Schuldig turned halfway back towards the door and tossed out a laugh. “Too late for that, Brad. This wouldn't be our first encounter, and I'm already well and truly under his skin.” He didn't leave as soon as he said it, like he probably should have. Instead he paused, hand on the knob, and waited until Crawford had fully processed that bit of information.

“Fine,” Crawford said after a few tense seconds, “then wipe his mind clean tonight when you've finished with him.”

Unwilling to turn around and get caught by the full strength of Crawford's gaze, Schuldig looked back at him over his shoulder, strands of rusty hair filtering the view. “What?”

“Make him forget you and any time spent with you. Don't turn him into a vegetable or make him regress to infancy. Just wipe all memories of you so that when he encounters you in battle, it will be his first time meeting you.”

Schuldig returned his attention to the door, and frowned in silence at his hand on the doorknob. “Whatever you say, oh wise leader,” he murmured mockingly as he twisted the metal beneath his fingers and pulled the door open.

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To be continued…