Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ The Rain Doesn't Grieve ❯ 06 ( Chapter 6 )

6

 

You want someone to tell you when you wake up in the morning it'll only be a dream.

(And I wish that I could tell you it'd only be a dream.)

 

Ken ~ John Valuk

 

Hospitals suck.

 

First they stick you with all sorts of needles and tubes, stick things where they shouldn't stick anything, and they steal your clothes. Then, when you finally start to feel alive again, they bring you lunch.

 

I had no idea how long I'd been there. That was bad enough, but then they told me.

 

Was I in an accident? My motorcycle… Kase? No, that was…years ago.

 

Oh, man.

 

The neurosurgeon stopped by to chat, but I couldn't get past his nametag. A neurosurgeon? For me? This couldn't be good. Let's see, I couldn't remember what had happened to me, I could barely remember anything, my head ached, and I needed a specialist.

 

I didn't even know how I'd pay for this.

 

They'd brought me lunch, some bland generic hospital food that really didn't make me all that hungry, and then she came into my life. That made me laugh; it reminded me of…someone. Someone would say things like that, cheesy things, you know? Lines, like pickup lines. About a red-haired woman.

 

About her.

 

“So, you finally decided to wake up,” she said to me, her voice the low warm kind of voice you'd want to hear on a dial-up porn line.

 

I couldn't take my eyes off her - she was wearing this tiny skirt that showed everything, and I mean everything! Her legs were long and she had on these little shoes with high heels and lacy cuff socks. And, though she looked so amazingly different from the girls I'd known, somehow she seemed way too familiar.

 

She stood by my bedside, smiling down with crimson lips. Suddenly I realized I had a very noticeable tent in my covers. I shifted my position and brought one leg up a little to hide it. Well, at least that was working, even if something else was seriously wrong.

 

“I see you're feeling better,” she purred, and I felt myself blush. Damn, I couldn't figure out who she was! I had the feeling I shouldn't be getting all bothered over her, but I couldn't help it, and I couldn't do much to stop it, either.

 

“Yes, I am, thank you,” I gasped. “But, please, do I know you?” If not, I'd like to! I thought, again reminding myself of someone else I should remember.

 

She sighed, a sad little sound, and sat on the edge of the bed. “They said you couldn't remember,” she murmured. “I wasn't sure how deep that went.”

 

“I'm sorry.” I reached out and touched her hand, feeling totally like a lame bastard. “I should know you, shouldn't I? I don't mean to hurt you, I didn't forget on purpose.”

 

Her slender hands wrapped around mine as she shook her head. “We didn't know each other like that, Hidaka. We…worked together.”

 

I tried to think, tried to unscramble the mess in my head. Flowers? Cats? “I'm so confused,” I groaned, wishing we were back at the vaguely flirty talk again. This heavy stuff was getting to me. “Where do I work?”

 

“It's a long story,” she said, turning her eyes from me. “And I'm not the best one to tell it.”

 

“Was there an accident?” An awful thought occurred to me, and I whispered, “Did someone die?”

 

Tears sparkled in the corners of her eyes. She reclaimed her hands to raise a tissue to her face, like she was trying not to lose it in front of me.

 

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that. Oh, hey, and I don't even know your name!” I blurted, now feeling totally rotten.

 

“Manx desu,” she whispered, not looking at me.

 

Manx? Cats…

 

“What was I called?” I asked, having the weird feeling that I had a cat name too. “My name is Hidaka Ken, but what was I called, Manx-san?”

 

“Siberian.” She glanced at me and smiled a little. “A solid, athletic animal with a friendly temperament and -” she paused, thinking, then said, “large, strong paws.”

 

Paws? What the hell?

 

Bombay…?

 

“There were others,” I breathed, not sure how I knew this but knowing it without any doubts. “Manx-san, what happened?”

 

“There was an…incident,” she said. “You were all injured. Two of your fellows have already been released from hospital. You and one other are still here for a while yet.”

 

“Were there just the four? Did anyone die?” I couldn't let this alone. I had to know.

 

“No, just the four.”

 

I relaxed back against the thin pillow, more tired than I'd expected. She was wearing me out and we weren't even naked. I smiled at the thought, and the name Yohji drifted up in my mind. Yes, the guy with the lines.

 

Line…? A wire…

 

“I'll let you sleep,” she said, rising. For one moment I almost caught sight of panties under that tiny skirt. Then my eyes focused on a tiny gun worn high up on her inner thigh, barely concealed in a velvet garter. Manx… Then she was gone, and I was left alone with my thoughts.

 

Damn, if I could just get my brain to work! Guess it got broken or something. That incident she mentioned - what the hell was that?

 

I reached up and touched the bandages on my head. They were loose, like they were just there to catch drippings. That idea made my stomach turn. I must have taken a skull fracture or something. That would explain a lot, except of course just how I'd gotten the damn thing.

 

I'm lucky to be alive.

 

“John Valuk is dead,” I mumbled to an empty room. “He fell on his head.” How could I remember a stupid movie when I couldn't even remember my own goddamn life?

 

 

Manx ~ Widow

 

God, I can't do this anymore.

 

I fled to the first private refuge I could find. The ladies' room was empty; I locked the door behind me and leaned against it.

 

Each one was more painful than the last. First Ran, determined to rebuild the team but without any target to pursue. He doesn't remember how to live without Weiß. Without the killing.

 

Then Yohji, just as determined to turn his back on the past and strike out alone. He'd been a wreck when we'd brought him into the team. How well would he evade his ghosts this time?

 

Now Ken. He didn't even remember Weiß, or Kritiker, or any of it. It might come back to him, but I doubted he would ever come back to Kritiker. He'd be a fool if he did. But would he know how to live a life without it?

 

I listened to my breathing echo off the tile, a harsh and vulnerable sound, a sound I'd sworn I'd never make.

 

I sounded like a victim.

 

With slow determination I got control of my breathing, forcing it to slow down and become quiet. I knew all too well that caring about the field agents compromised my own effectiveness.

 

I wasn't sure it mattered anymore. Weiß did not exist, Ran's delusions aside. Kritiker barely existed at all, thanks to Esset and our own naivite. We hadn't understood what we were up against, and it damn near destroyed us.

 

There was one person who could turn this around. One person who could lead Kritiker, rebuild it, help it stand against the covert might of Esset.

 

Though I don't often cry, I felt the traitorous tears well up again, in spite of my resolve. I dreaded what I had to do; I resented it so much I just wanted to turn and walk away. This wasn't right, we had no right to ask this of him. Of any of them. They had given so much already.

 

But Kritiker won't let me leave until it's done.

 

I moved away from the door and strode slowly toward the sinks. My hands were steady as I neatened my hair and makeup, becoming other than a victim, other than a visible wreck. I would not wear my heart on my sleeve; I couldn't afford to.

 

But it was getting so much harder to follow orders.

 

I've lost one man I loved to the post of Persia. Now I had to face another sacrifice, the boy I'd raised as my own. The boy who was Takatori Shuichi's only heir.

 

Heir to the throne of the empire that was Kritiker.

 

 

Omi ~ ÅŒjisama

 

“Hello, Manx.” I smiled up at her, though I was in a lot of pain right then. I'd just gotten back from physical therapy, and my back hadn't forgiven me yet. I started to move my wheelchair to meet her, but she waved and came toward me herself.

 

She seated herself, then said, “I'll cut right to the chase. Kritiker needs you.”

 

“I'll do it.”

 

“I haven't even told you yet.”

 

“You don't have to.” I moved my wheelchair a little closer to the window and looked out. Summer birds flew by, their freedom an illusion in the envious hearts of men. “I can't function in the field, I know too much to be allowed to leave, and I'm the only one who can run the operation the way ojisan did.” My heart had no illusions. Not anymore. “You need me to become Persia.”

 

“More than that, I'm afraid,” Manx said.

 

The tone of her voice made me turn to look at her. Her eyes were steely as she stated, “There are several levels of command that have been compromised. It's not just Project Weiß: we need you to rebuild Kritiker.”

 

I took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. This wasn't quite what I'd expected to hear. While I let her words sink in, Manx continued, a litany of disaster.

 

“The American Projects are in chaos. They lost their command level and several teams. In Asia, the only Project still viable is the Crashers, though command is gone. We've lost all contact with the European units. It's as though Esset knew where we were.”

 

…as though they knew where we were…

 

My gaze drifted to the little box on my nightstand, and my thoughts fell to the fine gold chain inside it. Something… Something about Schwarz almost made sense. The way they seemed to know what was going to happen, what we were thinking… Then several things started falling into place, details which built a most intriguing picture.

 

The head of Esset was dead before Weiß ever reached the tower.

 

Schwarz had betrayed their master, and now were in hiding. Or dead; I had no reason to think that they could succeed where our own teams had failed.

 

Then again, Kritiker had not known it was the prey; the red-haired Schwarz clearly knew the consequences of his team's actions. The owner of that gold chain did not want to be found.

 

I was the only one who knew he was alive that day.

 

They say `an enemy of my enemy is my friend'. At the moment, it was the only hope I had.

 

“When can I leave this hospital?” I asked, my voice surprisingly calm.

 

Manx glanced at her watch, then smiled. “I'll pick you up tomorrow.”

 

The door opened, and my physical therapist came in. Manx excused herself and slipped out the door before it finished swinging shut.

 

“Gomen, I don't mean to interrupt,” he said, “but you wanted me to tell you as soon as I heard. Your friend. He's awake.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

A/N:

You want someone to tell you when you wake up in the morning it'll only be a dream.

(And I wish that I could tell you it'd only be a dream.)

“Out Of Control” - Oingo Boingo Best O'Boingo

 

Ken ~ John Valuk

The title and later movie quote are from “Buckaroo Banzai, Adventures Across the 8th Dimension”, a quirkly little SF classic. It's the kind of movie he'd watch with Omi, back in the quiet times between assignments. Of course, if he's Valuk, that would make Omi John Parker…

Manx ~ Widow

Yes, she loved Shuichi. I suspect she never had the time to grieve, not properly, and so carries a lot of unresolved pain. It's this pain that colors her actions. In her position with Kritiker, she has seen too much, and it never seems to stop.

Omi ~ ÅŒjisama

And if it looks to you like Manx had this conversation timed out so she didn't have to be the one to get Omi's hopes up over Ken…you'd be right.

ojisan - uncle

ÅŒjisama - prince