Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Snow Day ❯ Prologue

Snow Day

*A/N: This is the sequel to New York, something I never planned to write until it started snowing here in England. Gorgeous gorgeous snow! And now it's all melting <_>

Warnings: nothing? Well, OOC, and sap, but by now that probably goes without saying for my fics. *

Nagi stared at his footprint. It was crisp and white and perfect, and it didn't mar the beauty of the snow as he'd thought it might. And it was small. He wrinkled his nose. It was a small footprint, compared with the expanse of snow. He'd never really realised how small her was, compared with this city.

Brad smiled, watching his companion from a distance. The school had had to close when the heating went out, and Nagi was wandering around Central Park. He wasn't aware of Brad's presence, but the Oracle had set out almost an hour ago to wait for him. A hot cup of coffee and some warm pastries were in order. Nagi didn't know it yet, but he'd aced that test he'd been worrying about.

Nagi crouched down, digging his fingers in the snow. It was cold. Well, duh! Nagi smiled at himself. His scarf dragged in the snow, and he watched the crystals melt on the fringed end. His fingers began to turn white, then a pale pink.

"Nagi?"

Nagi tumbled forwards, getting a mouthful of snow.

"Hey look, the Jap's, um…" Nagi climbed to his feet and turned to stare eye-to-navel with his antagonist. He stepped backwards.

"Aa, so witty." The `sidekicks' snickered. "Tom, Ahan," Nagi greeted them. Alan grinned.

"L's just ain't your thing, are they, squirt?"

"Nah," Nagi grinned.

"So, drawing plans for bombing another harbour in the snow?" The third guy, Bill, sneered. Alan and Tom gave him odd looks.

"Wait, are you making some `Pearl Harbour' joke?" Nagi frowned, confused. "Should I make some McDonalds crack in return? Perhaps a George Dubya Bush quote?"

"Hey, my father voted for him!" Alan teased. Nagi flushed immediately and stammered an apology. "Hey, don't sweat it. Joke." Nagi remained red.

"You are so weird," Tom observed.

Nagi sighed, momentarily oblivious to his companions. Not even companions, really. They didn't know his surname, they didn't know he lived with Brad, they didn't know he didn't have any family, and they definitely didn't know anything about Schwarz. That, Nagi could live with, but they didn't know anything. They didn't know him. No one did. Okay, so perhaps he kept himself separate, a little aloof, rather shy. But that was him. And no one else had even tried to make an effort. Alan had been assigned as his lab partner, and Tom his guide, and they were the only people in the entire school after almost six months that knew his name. He was a non-entity in this huge city, and he didn't even have the old excuse of `they make me' any more. He simply wasn't adjusting.

The fist caught him by surprised. He sailed gracefully backwards into a snowdrift piled against a tree. As his head connected with the tree itself, leaving him with a pounding headache, there was another soft thud as branch released its load into his lap.

"Hah!"

Nagi blinked. Bill glowered down at him.

"Gomen nasai," he murmured dazedly. He didn't even know what he was apologising for. His existence, possibly.

"Huh? Speak American, you little twat!"

"It's English, baka," Nagi growled. England had appealed to him, with it's melancholy atmosphere and monotone weather. And when he learnt English at Rosenkruez, it had been British English, not American English. Most of Europe learnt British English, and Nagi had suffered when he picked up an `Americanism' from Crawford. It had made him a little sensitive about the whole issue, to be honest.

"Wha'? I don't like weird people, got that, Jappy? I can't stand the Chinese!" Bill kicked him, hard.

"I'm Japanese," Nagi panted. "That's like saying the English are French!" I must have a death wish, he groaned internally.

"You're just here to leach off our country coz yours is so crap! You ain't even properly white, you just got those huge blue eyes so you can pretend! You ain't have a dollar to your name back home, right, so you came here to leach of those of us who work and worship God for what we get! Communist! Reddo!" Nagi shivered in the snow as a shadow passed over him.

"I think you may be thinking of China," a cultured voice snarled. Bill found himself suspended about a foot above the ground. "Though why you seem to find a political system based on equality so disgusting is above me." Brad raised an eyebrow. "I've seen many cultures, many governments, and I wouldn't say America was so great."

"Nigger-loving, Jew-hugging, Al-qaeda (sp?) -"

"You're joking?" Brad interrupted incredulously.

Bill spat at him.

Brad broke Bill's arm.

An extremely short while later, Nagi and Brad found themselves alone under the trees. Brad offered Nagi a hand and brushed him down. Nagi was shivering, almost blue. His trousers were soaked through and there was snow inside his coat and down his shirt. He looked like a scarecrow in winter.

"Come on, we need to get you home," Brad muttered. He slid off his coat, to Nagi's murmured protests. A passer-by gave them a sympathetic look, probably mistaking Nagi for a much younger boy out with his father, unprepared for the intensity of the cold. Well, they would have been almost right. Brad forced Nagi's arms into the large greatcoat and pushed his own gloves over Nagi's. Eventually, when Brad was standing in a thin shirt and trousers, and Nagi was trussed up like the Michelin Man, Brad began to lead Nagi back to the apartment.

* * *

Nagi was bedded down on the couch, positioned so he could stare out of the huge window. He had his hands wrapped around a half empty cup of hot chocolate. The reason it was half empty rapidly became apparent to Brad as he stared at the miserable boy.

"You sneezed?"

Nagi nodded. Hot chocolate covered the multitude of blankets. Brad sighed and made his way towards the makeshift bed, set up so Nagi could still see the snow. Nagi didn't have the heart to tell the older man he really didn't want to see the snow, as it reminded him he was missing it.

Brad sighed. "We'll just dump the whole lot in the washing machine for now. It's easier." When they moved in, one of the first things Brad had done was the installation of a washing machine. He couldn't stand doing laundry with a group of complete strangers. Too personal.

Nagi have climbed, half tumbled, off of the sofa and crawled a small distance across the floor.

"How are you feeling?" Brad glanced across at him. Nagi's eye was a spectacular black, and his ribs were a mass of bruises.

"By nose ib blocked an' by side and by `ead `urts," Nagi forced out. "I hate being sick!"

"I can sympathise. On that note, we got another card from Schuldig. Actually, we got a package." Nagi perked up a little. "A porn video, staring himself, naturally." Nagi managed a small smile. Brad felt a pang for the younger man. He couldn't even call Nagi a boy, not after everything they'd both seen. "And something from Farfarello, or at least from his hospital. I thought you'd like to open that." Crawford left the room, carrying the sheets.

Nagi tucked his knees under his chin and bit back a moan. He didn't want to know what the hospital sent. How could it be anything good? Farfarello had probably died. He felt a tear creep down his cheek. For all he had hated being in Schwarz, they were all he had. If Crawford had left him in Japan he wouldn't have lasted a night. He wouldn't have wanted to.

And from what he had seen, neither would Crawford.

"It's good news," Crawford said from behind him. Nagi jumped.

"You sure?" He asked nervously.

"I'm going to buy you coffee to celebrate," Crawford reassured him.

Nagi tore into the envelope and stared at the precisely printed formal letter. He skimmed it, and snatched up the discarded envelope. A much smaller envelope fell out. Inside that was another letter.

Dear Nagi. Thank you for your letters. They've put me on a lot of drugs, so

everything seems altered and strange. I can't write easily. It is like being high,

all of life is a blur of white walls and silver needles and not caring. Schuldig, now

there is a man I have not seen in a long time, our guilty one. I wonder

how he is. He sent me a video, but I was not allowed to watch it.

The food here is terrible, but the drugs stop me from caring. I can't taste any

of it, really. I'm not always allowed to eat when they're trying a new course of drugs.

Going to America with Brad was a good idea. I hope you are not bored in class. Been

out and about recently? We are not allowed to watch the news, but I heard it snowed.

Don't get too cold, you know what you are like with illnesses.

Hope Crawford is looking after you properly. Remember, you are an equal, not an

underling. If he tries to push you around you know what to do. Does he have you

running errands and typing up his reports? You have probably created a program

to do that already! Any new programs you have not told me about yet?

How is Crawfish? You two must be doing extremely well with your combined talents.

Is it better than before? You two were the most dependent on our group. Though no

more on that. Is Crawford giving this letter and its reader the death glare?

For a long time I have wanted to write to you, but I have not be able to. They

only read the letters to me when I'm on maximum sedation and chained up. They

read in a monotone, and I fall asleep. It is not my fault I have not heard all of them!

Most of my days are dull, and my nights worse. I miss the old days. Live was more

enjoyable then. For all of us. I can't hurt God here. Farfarello Goodbye, Jei.

Nagi read the letter aloud, blinked and read it again. Then he laughed. Crawford reached over his shoulder and frowned at it. Then he laughed.

"They must have noticed that," he frowned.

"It's written in English, an' it ib a Jabanese hosbital," Nagi pointed out. "They migh' have translated it to check what he bas writing, bu' I doubt they'd have spotted tha'."

"I see. Well, how about that coffee?" Crawford smiled benevolently. After the reminder of their past, Nagi had to hold back a wince. It was Brad he lived with, not Crawford, but that smile still felt strange, like he was a client Crawford wanted to impress.

"I still don' feel bell," Nagi admitted. He sneezed again.

"You don't cope well with extremes of weather," Crawford observed. "Who were those boys?" It had been several days, but brad had been loathe to broach the subject. The few times he'd asked how Nagi was getting on a school Nagi had managed to change the subject before Crawford asked if he was making any friends.

"From school," Nagi grunted, clearly unwilling to discuss it. He blew his nose and handed Brad the tissue.

Brad sighed. "Nagi, are they giving you a lot of grief?"

"No. Bill is really bigoted, but the other two are okay. They know my name, which is more than most."

"You don't like it here. Do you?"

"I liked Japan. I liked Schwarz. I liked having Schuldig and Farfarello around and occasionally finding my work challenging. I haven't learnt a single new thing since coming here. I can't use my powers. I can't do anything of worth to anyone. I can't even defend myself against petty high school bullies who think Japan is the same as China!"

"I know."

"I know you know. Schuldig's enjoying himself. Farfarello seems to have accepted his situation, though you can't really tell with him. You and I are sitting in the Big Apple trying to pretend soon it will all be as it used to be." Nagi scowled bitterly. "I need Schwarz," he lamented. "They were the closest thing to a family I ever had. And you need people to be responsible for; it's in your character! How come the others are doing so well?"

"We get letters, Nagi, not proof they are. Do you think we should move? Try and find Schuldig, perhaps? Go and visit Farfarello?" Brad stared at the younger man.

"No. I… I don't think so. We're supposed to be trying to let go, remember? Besides, I quite like New York. But… I don't like the high school. And I don't like what we're doing here, i.e. nothing!"

"I know. We can't go back to what we had, but we're not going forwards either. I… I have an idea. Will you be okay here?"

Nagi frowned and nodded. "I'm going to go to bed," he told Brad, gathering up the few remaining blankets which had survived the sneeze-spilt cocoa. He stood unsteadily, and Brad helped him walk the short corridor to his room.

"I'll be back quite soon. Take a nap for now." Nagi smiled reassuringly, well, attempted to. Crawford frowned in concern, but left anyway.

* * *

It was bordering on five hours before Crawford returned, and Nagi had slept the whole time. He had woken up moments before Brad returned and crawled to the front room.

"How is it you always manage to wake up just in time for the meagre anime offerings they provide here?" Brad grinned sardonically. Nagi smiled.

Brad dumped a pile of paperwork on the table and started to go through it. He'd quit his job, dropped Nagi out of school, placed adverts in several newspapers and bought something he'd been meaning to for a while. It had begun to snow again, and Brad drew up two armchairs near the window so they could watch it. Nagi obediently turned off the television (he'd seen them all in Japan anyway) and joined the older man.

"What did you do?"

"Got coffee. To celebrate."

*A/N: This seemed like a nice image, Nagi and Brad sitting in front of the window drinking hot coffee and discussing the future. Which will be very similar to the past, but less people. Oh dear, I feel another sequel coming on. We may have a trilogy here! *