Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ The Sous-Chef ❯ Chapter 4

A/n: To my reviewers

Since I keep forgetting, I want to thank everyone who's reviewed so far: KD, mm-chan, bluefolly, eva84, darke, bly, dimonyo-anghel, darkanger, and galestorm - thanks so much; I appreciate the time and effort you've expended to give me feedback. I hope you will continue to R&R, or at least read. I'm very happy there are people enjoying this.  

 

 

Chapter 4

 

“I wonder if we should start calling him Ran,” Yohji considered, as he drove their rental from Narita airport to Aya's place in Kyoto.

 

“Why? Mamoru didn't call him Ran, and Ken probably doesn't call him Ran,” Schuldig answered, looking up from filing his nails.

 

“All the more reason to try,” Yohji answered. “Could you pick it up out of his head?”

 

Schu looked at him like he was nuts. “I'm not going in there unless I have to, Yohji.”

 

Yohji looked at him, confused. “Why not?”

 

“Aya's mind, on a good day, is about as pleasant as a stroll through the Arctic naked. On a bad day, it's as pleasant as a stroll through the Arctic naked while periodically getting splashed with lava and pelted with daggers. I'm not going in there. And don't talk to me if you're not going to watch the road, dummy.”

 

“Ch'!” Yohji swerved as he was about to run off the shoulder of the highway. “You never told me this!”

 

“Why would I have? We both avoid the subject of Aya as much as possible. Well, until you ran into the Little Bitch.” Schu had decided this was Aya-chan's new name, and Yohji had heartily agreed, though he hoped neither of them slipped up and used it around Aya.

 

“I suppose,” Yohji considered. “I guess it's nice to know that I don't know everything there is to know about you. For instance, I know why Ran named himself Aya, but I still don't know why you named yourself Schuldig.” Yohji had asked before, but Schu always just said “It's a long story,” and wouldn't elaborate.

 

Schuldig sighed, and put down his Emory board. “You'll never stop asking me until you get an answer, will you?”

 

“Well…” Yohji felt guilty. It was obvious that Schu's reasons were painful, and he really shouldn't keep asking, but the detective in him just couldn't leave it alone.

 

“I didn't name myself Schuldig.”

 

Yohji pulled the car over onto the shoulder and turned it off. He gave Schuldig his full attention. “I had suspected that much. Who named you? Were you named at Rosenkreuz?” Like Aya, the psychic training facility was a subject that both of them studiously circumvented.

 

Schu sighed again, and looked at the dashboard. “Rosenkreuz always harvests its telepaths as early as possible. It's usually pretty easy for them, since most parents have their kids committed when they start manifesting the ability. To an outsider, telepathy appears remarkably like schizophrenia except that it shows up so early, usually around four or five, when the kids don't know what they should say and what they shouldn't.”

 

“Shit,” Yohji sighed. “Is that what happened to you? Your parents committed you?”

 

“Can you keep driving? Sitting here on the side of the road is making me antsy.”

 

Yohji pulled back out onto the highway. “I can't promise I won't crash, because I really want to hear this.” Schuldig rolled his eyes. “So go on.”

 

“Where was I?” Schuldig tapped his teeth with his forefinger.

 

“You were telling me whether your parents committed you or not.”

 

“No, they didn't. Telepathic ability is genetic, like most psychic abilities. Unlike most, it generally skips several generations, which is why most parents don't have a clue what's happening when their kids start hearing voices and repeating their own thoughts to them. According to my file, in my family it only skipped one generation, so it's likely that one or both of my parents knew what was going on with me. Esszet agents ended up killing my parents to get a hold of me, since they wouldn't give me up.” Schu's face was neutral, and Yohji couldn't read it at all.

 

“Gods, that must have been awful. How old were you?” he said, touching Schu's arm.

 

“I was eight, just barely old enough to enter Rosenkreuz. But Yohji, I'm aware of this information only because I've read the files Esszet's kept on me. I have no memory of these events.”

 

“What? They wiped your brain?!” Yohji exclaimed, horrified.

 

“Of course they did. Eyes on the road, baby,” Schuldig admonished, as Yohji almost drove off the highway again. “It's pretty much standard procedure. Rosenkreuz functions only to produce loyal robots for Esszet. Things like insurrections or students going AWOL are much easier to prevent if the students don't remember who they are or where they came from. All they know is Rosenkreuz. There are exceptions, of course. Precogs aren't ever wiped - it interferes with their gift. Apparently you have to be aware of the past in order to see the future. Berzerkers aren't wiped either, because Esszet doesn't care enough about them to bother.”

 

“Berzerkers? You mean like Farfarello? I thought that was just his codename.”

 

Schuldig grinned and shook his head. “There is, or was, a sub-sub basement under the main building where certain individuals were kept locked away in solitary isolation. They were harvested from mental facilities around the world. I was never quite sure what qualified one to be chosen for the honor of disappearing into that prison. They're all called Berzerkers. Esszet scientists would do experiments on them - Farf's inability to feel pain is a result of one of those. It's unheard of for a Berzerker to be placed on a field team; if Crawford wasn't the most powerful precog in centuries I'm certain his request for Farfarello would have been denied.”

 

Yohji was quiet for a moment, trying to absorb this information. “No wonder Crawford was so determined to be free of Esszet. Rosenkreuz sounds horrid.”

 

“I haven't even told you any of the horrid bits,” Schu replied, taking Yohji's hand and holding it against his thigh. “I'll spare you the gory details, though. Getting back to your original question, yes, the instructors at Rosenkreuz named me Schuldig. Most kids are given names appropriate to their country, but telepaths are named according to their personalities, or at least what the instructors want the telepath to think is its cardinal trait. It's always something with negative connotations, like “Sinister”, “Liar” or “Sneaky”, to name a few. During a telepath's time at Rosenkreuz, they are treated like whatever their name says they are. The reason is purely psychological, to keep the telepaths paranoid and mistrustful of each other, and to make the other students wary of telepaths.”

 

Yohji sighed. “This is crazy. What's so bad about telepaths?”

 

Schu laughed. “I suppose it's not obvious, is it? Rosenkreuz harvests a few hundred telepaths each year, of varying degrees of strength. If telepaths were to band together, not only could the strong telepaths effectively enhance the power of the weaker ones, but they could link the entire student body together if they wished. A group of telepaths is a very powerful organizational force, and if there's anything Esszet hates, it's psychics banding together on their own. So distrust and paranoia is sown among all the students, but especially the telepaths. Ounce of prevention and all that. And hey, look, a temple. And another. We must be in Kyoto.”

 

Yohji looked out of the windshield to see the temples go by. “Thanks for telling me all that, Schu. My respect for you has just multiplied exponentially.”

 

Schu smiled and squeezed Yohji's hand. “It was a long time ago, you know.”

 

“Not so long, Schu.”

 

“Yeah, well,” the gaijin sighed, “it's over now. So shut up and start preparing yourself to see your precious Aya again, because we're almost there.”

 

“He's not `my' anything anymore, you know.”

 

“Didn't I shut you up already?”

 

It occurred to Yohji, a bit belatedly, that Schu needed to prepare himself for this meeting. He'd rushed them into this trip to Japan, and made Schu leave a place he was really enjoying in order to check on Yohji's ex-boyfriend in a country neither of them wanted to visit. In addition, the only people they were planning on seeing all had reason to hold a major grudge against Schu, except for Nagi, and they weren't even sure he'd be in Kyoto when they were. All things considered, Schu was being amazingly good-tempered. Yohji silently kicked himself for being twelve kinds of idiot as well as an insensitive ass, and lit a fresh cigarette to calm his own nerves.

 

He really hoped everyone concerned would get through this reunion intact.

 

*****

 

“Yohji-kun! It's so great to see you!”

 

Yohji found he'd suddenly grown a limpet in the shape of Mamoru Takatori. He returned the embrace somewhat less enthusiastically, but still happily. “Hey, kiddo - I mean, Mamoru. Good to see you too.” He was a little surprised at how terrific it was to see such a familiar face. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed his friends.

 

Just before it would have become awkward, Mamoru released him, holding onto his hands and smiling up at him for a few seconds more. Turning to Schuldig, his smile and posture grew more formal, and he bowed. “Welcome, Schuldig-san.”

 

His greeting wasn't cold, but it was light-years away from welcoming. Yohji punched Mamoru on the shoulder with a bit more force than necessary. “Hey, we're all friends here, right? Enough with the `-san' crap.”

 

“It's fine, Yohji,” Schuldig said, and Yohji was not at all pleased to note that he was now wearing his patented Bastard Smirk. “Let the little Takatori play it his way.”

 

Yohji winced. “Schu…”

 

“No, you're right, Yohji,” Mamoru sighed. “I apologize, Schuldig. Come in, please.” He stood aside, and Yohji took Schuldig's hand and led him into the front hall. Mamoru closed the door behind them. “Aya is in the living room, just ahead. I'll make some tea, unless you'd prefer coffee?”

 

“Some coffee would be great,” Yohji said, trying to quell the butterflies that had come to life in his stomach at the mention of Aya. Schuldig was frowning at him. “Uh, where's Ken?”

 

A stormy look flitted across Mamoru's delicate features. “He hasn't been here all day; we don't know where he is. Aya says he'll probably be here later. Oh, do you have any more bags? I'd be happy to bring them in for you.”

 

“Nope, just these,” Yohji indicated the suitcases they were toting.

 

“Just leave those anywhere, then, and I'll take them to your room. You might want - “

 

“Where's Nagi?” Schu interrupted, and Mamoru glared at him. Yohji knew well how he hated to be interrupted, especially since he'd become Persia, and was sure Schuldig knew it too. He ground his teeth in frustration.

 

“Nagi-kun is on an assignment for me. He'll be here later this evening. He's looking forward to seeing you, Schuldig.”

 

Schu looked skeptical. “He said that, did he?”

 

“Yes, he did.” Mamoru crossed his arms defensively.

 

“Nagi's never looked forward to seeing anyone in his life.”

 

Mamoru's eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I was mistaken,” he said coldly. “I can't imagine why anyone would look forward to a visit from you, Mastermind.”

 

“Well this hallway is nice and all,” Yohji hastily interjected, “but let's move this party somewhere more comfortable, huh?” He really wanted to see Aya and make sure he was in one piece before having to deal with any arguments or power struggles.

 

Schuldig pointedly dropped his bags in front of Mamoru, and sauntered down the hallway. Yohji groaned softly in frustration as Mamoru kicked the bags aside and stomped past. Yohji was dropping his bags next to Schu's when his lover's voice sounded in his head.

 

::Shit!::

 

::What is it? Is something wrong with Aya?:: Yohji demanded, trying to quickly disentangle himself from his bags.

 

::No…he's fine, he's…we shouldn't have come here.:: The thought was panicky and Yohji was almost certain Schuldig hadn't meant for him to hear it. He yanked a strap over his head and dashed down the hallway to Schu, who was leaning against the wall and staring into the living room. His face was expressionless.

 

::Schu, wha - :: Yohji couldn't complete the thought, because he looked into the living room and caught sight of Aya. The man was standing by the window, leaning lightly against it and looking outside, in the traditional arms-crossed Aya pose. He was either ignoring them or hadn't realized they were there; Yohji guessed the latter. The sunlight was streaming over his face, making it glow, igniting his hair - long hair, much longer than Yohji remembered - to a burning red halo, his eyes gleaming purple stars…

 

He was a fey vision of impossible, heart-stopping beauty.

 

Yohji walked forward without realizing he was moving, spellbound. “Aya,” he breathed, and the name was an incantation that started so many emotions flooding through him that he couldn't identify them. Tears sprang to his eyes and rolled down his cheeks before he could banish them.

 

Aya turned slightly, appearing faintly startled. Yohji noticed his abdominal muscles shifting under the tight lace-up tee-shirt he wore. He'd put on a bit of weight, all muscle, and Yohji recalled Mamoru telling him Aya was back in construction. The extra bulk looked spectacular on him; his body was sexier than ever. Yohji couldn't help undressing him in his mind, imagining how that sleekly muscled form would feel in his arms, underneath him, covering him…

 

Aya was moving toward him, saying his name, and Yohji rushed forward and threw his arms around Aya's shoulders, holding that amazing body tight against him. Aya's arms were squeezing him so tightly he could hardly breathe, but it didn't matter. He buried his nose in that fiery hair and the scent of Aya was so beloved and familiar and exciting… He was painfully hard and he knew Aya could feel it, but he didn't let go and neither did Aya. He plunged his hands into all that glorious, burning hair and pulled gently, wanting more than anything to taste Aya's spicy red mouth again -

 

::Kiss him now and you will never see me again, Yohji.:: Schuldig's voice was quiet, and serious, and very, very pissed off.

 

Yohji froze, crashing back into reality as though hitting a brick wall. He tried to hastily extricate himself from Aya's grasp, willing his hard-on to get lost while cursing in his mind and sending Schu apology after apology, only to find that Aya was clinging to him like a drowning man. “Aya,” he choked, just barely able to inflate his lungs, “You gotta let go now. It's great to see you, but I need to breathe now. Aya!” He shook Aya's shoulders as much as he could - it was like shaking a slab of granite - and slapped at them. “Leggo, Aya!”

 

Aya dropped his arms and backed away from Yohji. He lifted his head; Yohji looked in his eyes and saw beautiful amethysts empty of everything except frightening desperation. Aya sank bonelessly into a chair by the window. “Nice to see you, Yohji,” he said, his voice mechanical, inflectionless. “You too, Schuldig,” he added after a moment.

 

“Ja, likewise I'm sure,” Schuldig muttered.

 

Yohji really needed to sit down and collect himself, and he didn't think he could do that while in the same room as Aya. “Boy, Mamoru's taking his damn sweet time with that coffee,” Yohji said, stretching. “Well, we've been traveling a while, so I think Schu and I are going to go freshen up a bit. Which room are we staying in?”

 

“Just down this hallway, second door on the left,” Mamoru's voice chirped from behind him. He turned to see his former leader holding a tray of steaming mugs. “There's a private bathroom as well. Don't be too long, I really want to talk to you some more, Yohji!”

 

“Okay. Thanks, bishounen,” Yohji said absently as he snagged a cup of coffee and headed to the front hallway for his bags.

 

::Takatori already moved them while you were dry-humping the pretty zombie, :: Schuldig sent.

 

Yohji felt blood rushing to his face. ::I was not dry-humping him, Schul — “ He looked into Schu's face and saw the dark scowl, the hurt in his eyes, and decided to let it go. “C'mon, let's go,” he said, sipping the coffee and changing direction to their room. He went inside and sat on the bed, staring at the doorway, perplexed and miserable. He couldn't think of any way to apologize or explain that Schuldig would accept. He'd known that seeing Aya would stir up feelings in him, and had thought he was prepared for it. Clearly, he'd been a total idiot about this situation.

 

After several tense seconds, Schu arrived and closed the door behind him. Yohji put his coffee down on a chest of drawers, and looked at his boyfriend. Schu looked back at him. There was silence for a while.

 

“So!” Schuldig clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Five years down the toilet, huh?”

 

Yohji decided that he had to be the slimiest shit in the septic tank. “Schu, no…”

 

“Just one look at the magnificence of Fujimiya Aya, and I'm toast, n'est-ce pas?” Schuldig continued cheerfully.

 

“I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me,” Yohji pleaded, immediately regretting that he'd said something so lame.

 

“Oh, you wanted to come all over somebody, and it sure as hell wasn't me.” Schu's false good cheer was rapidly eclipsed by wrath. “You fucking capricious bastard, Yohji. I thought this would happen but I told myself, no, he loves me, and he knows I'll cut his fucking cock off if he betrays me, so I've got nothing to worry about, right? And the minute - the fucking nanosecond you lay eyes on that pretty little cocksucker, it's as though I never even existed. I saw myself totally disappear from your mind, Yohji. Not just me, though, everyone was gone except for Aya. I've hardly ever seen that happen… Yohji… that's never happened with me, I've never been the only…only one…” Schuldig crumpled to the floor and hid his face in his hands.

 

Yohji slid from the bed to his knees and crawled over to Schuldig. His brain was stuck on repeat. ::Schu I'm sorry I'm so, so sorry Schu I do love you please forgive me I'm sorry I'm sorry I love you Schu…::

 

::Shut up.:: Schu looked up and glared at him with watery eyes. ::I'm hardly going to just hand you over to him. You're mine now; he can't have you. If you decide you'd rather be with him, I'll kill both of you and put you in the same grave.::

 

Yohji knew Schuldig was deadly serious, and he was so relieved he thought he would melt into the carpet. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Schuldig and rested his head on the gaijin's shoulder. “Schuldig, I'm - “

 

“Shit, stop apologizing, would you? You're really getting on my nerves.” He sounded testy, but he slipped an arm around Yohji's waist and pulled him closer. Yohji sighed.

 

“I really don't understand what happened in there,” Yohji began after a while. “I mean…I just don't understand it. I knew I would still care for him, but…” he trailed off, unable to figure out where to go from there.

 

Schuldig tsked. “You Weiss boys. I know exactly what went on in there; you want me to tell you?”

 

Yohji pulled back and looked into Schuldig's shining blue eyes. “Please do, if you're serious.”

 

“You have Aya on this fucked up pedestal. In your mind, he's this amazing, beautiful, tragic figure who can do anything, defeat any enemy, who has the only the one tragic flaw of the classic hero. This being his obsessive love for his sister, naturally. But it's even better than your run-of-the-mill tragic flaw, because this flaw is also a strength, the only thing which gives him his humanity. He's otherworldly in his beauty, flawless in his skills, relentless in his determination, unflappable in his righteousness, and all of these things combined make you just want to nail him to the floor with your cock.”

 

Yohji blinked. “Um…who are you again?”

 

Schuldig rolled his eyes. “I can be smart. I just choose not to be. I learned from Farfarello.” He grinned. “It's not my own intelligence anyway. When you rifle through the minds of enough smart people, some of it rubs off.”

 

Yohji snorted. “Right, you're an idiot savant.”

 

“Call me any kind of idiot again and I'll have you singing showtunes and drooling in your porridge for the rest of your days.” Yohji rolled his eyes and resettled into a more comfortable position, leaning on Schu's bent legs. “Think I'm kidding, blondie?”

 

“No, not at all. So if you knew all this…why didn't you, I don't know, dampen my enthusiasm or something?”

 

“Damn it, Yohji, I told you I wasn't going to alter anything in your brain unless it was destroying you. This isn't destroying you; it just might lead to me destroying you.”

 

Yohji frowned. “So how come you aren't destroying me? You've…actually been really nice about this, for you. I should at least have a black eye by now.”

 

“Want one?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Don't tempt fate then.”

 

Yohji chuckled, and got his coffee off of the chest of drawers. He sipped, decided it wasn't too cold to drink, and leaned back against the bed. “So what gives?”

 

“Well…it's not just you that sees Aya that way, you know. Ken and Takatori both share your view of him. All aspects of it,” he added, looking at Yohji significantly.

 

“Bullshit. Omi never wanted to fuck Aya.”

 

“Oh, yes he did.”

 

Yohji nearly spit coffee all over himself. “Omi? As in, pre-Mamoru Omi? As in the only girl I ever dated was closely related to me Omi?”

 

“That's the one. Of course he didn't get his chance until Aya was living with Ken, and Takatori was living with Nagi.”

 

Yohji couldn't even speak.

 

“Nagi had a hand in it, so to speak. It was all his idea. Quite an interesting experience; I lifted it all from Takatori's mind. I'll show it to you sometime, but you should really ask Aya about it. He'll tell you whatever you want to know.”

 

“You are such a fucking liar, Schuldig.” Yohji already knew Schu wasn't lying, and Schu knew he knew, so all he got in retaliation was a raised eyebrow. “Fuck,” Yohji whispered, shaking his head. He got out two cigarettes and lit them, passed one to Schuldig. He inhaled and kept the smoke in until he felt a little lightheaded. Upon breathing out he decided he didn't want to know any more about this subject…for the time being. “So I don't understand why this prevents you from unleashing deadly wrath upon my person.”

 

“Nearly everyone who comes into contact with Aya suffers a little from one aspect or another of what you three experience. In Schwarz we used to call it the Aya Syndrome. Everybody wants to fuck Aya, or worship him, or own him, dominate or be dominated by him. People hate him for the same reasons - he's beautiful and aloof, unattainable. The desire to rip him down from his perch and destroy him is nearly as compelling as the desire to fuck or be fucked by him.”

 

Yohji looked at his reflection in his coffee. “So what part of Aya Syndrome do you have, Schu?”

 

“I would have liked to ball his brains out, naturally. Nagi and Crawford felt the same way.” Schu laughed as Yohji's eyebrows flew up to his hairline. “We weren't obsessed with him, though. He wasn't Talented, and therefore was beneath our notice except as an interesting bauble with a blade-fetish. Plus, I couldn't stand being in his head for long, which made him completely uninteresting to me.”

 

“I notice you didn't mention Berzerker.”

 

Schu sighed. “I don't know. I couldn't go in his mind; it was a hundred times worse than Aya's. I used to think he saw everyone solely in terms of how great it would be to expose their innards to the world, but he kept surprising me with how observant he was about people. I never asked him about Aya, though, and he never mentioned anything about him.” Schuldig stretched, puffed on his cigarette and slid over next to Yohji. “Anyway, I haven't killed you because when I looked into the living room and saw Aya standing by the window, I knew exactly how it was going to affect you and I…could empathize completely. To have a creature that beautiful in love with you must have been very intoxicating.”

 

“Hey, you're not exactly homely, lover,” Yohji chided, putting his arm around Schu. “Neither am I, for that matter. And since when have you let empathy stop you?”

 

Schuldig's face grew solemn. “It wasn't just that,” he said quietly. “When you went to him, I got…vengeful. I braved Aya's mind so that I could find something to twist, make him suffer. Not that that's any great feat, since he's such a martyr. But...remember how I described Aya's mind, before?”

 

“Sure. It was only this afternoon; I'm not that brain-dead yet.”

 

“Well, now it's like there's nothing in there at all. A grey waste. Everything that made up Aya…it's there, somewhere; it has to be. It's just completely inaccessible.”

 

“No,” Yohji breathed. He'd known things were bad with Aya, but he'd assumed his problems would be at least fixable. What Schuldig was describing sounded…irreparable.

 

“It might be irreparable, it might not. Yohji, I pulled some things from Aya-chan's mind as well, which put this situation in perspective. All his life, while being Ran and being Aya, people objectified him one way or another. Even his parents - his father always believed Ran wasn't really his son, and saw him as an intruder. His mother faulted him for driving her husband away from her, and would either lavish praise on him or ignore him completely, depending on her mood. None of this, of course, had anything to do with Ran personally. Only one person was close enough to him to see him as human, and treat him as human. You know who I mean. It wasn't his love for her that gave him his humanity; it was her love for him. She knew who he was, when he didn't even know. So when she took off, without so much as a whisper of warning…”

 

Yohji decided he hated Aya-chan, and the next time he saw her he would wipe the street clean with her cute little face.

 

“I wouldn't waste too much energy being mad at her. It's not like the relationship was healthy for either of them. I don't think Aya would even have a chance of becoming a whole person if she stuck around. It sucks and it's really depressing, but this might end up good for him, Yohji.”

 

“And since when do you care about what's good for Aya, Schu?”

 

Schuldig smacked the back of Yohji's head, hard. “Since you love him, you dumbass!”

 

Yohji rubbed his head, then stared at Schu, startled. “Your right. I do love him; did love him. Really loved him.” His voice took on a defensive edge. “I didn't objectify him, Schuldig, at least not always. We were…he was…” He stopped, not wanting to attempt speaking around the lump in his throat.

 

“Yes, Yohji. Which is why he held onto you so tightly. He wasn't aware at all of any of the dynamics between us, or even your reactions to him. He just saw a hand reaching in the darkness. You are, I think, the only one who can help him right now. Not save him, or fix him, but just get him started rebuilding an identity. Which, I must emphasize, must not center solely on you.”

 

Yohji stared. “You make it sound like we're going to stick around here for a while.”

 

Schu made a face. “I don't know if staying here would be such a great idea, but…we'll figure all of this out later. Christ, we just got here! All this emotional shit wears me out,” he announced, slumping against Yohji, who kissed the top of his head. “We should probably venture out there again.”

 

Yohji looked skeptical. “Already?”

 

“If it looks like you're going to run over and clean Aya's tonsils for him, I'll just paralyze you.”

 

“You won't tamp down my emotions, but you'll lock up my motor controls?”

 

“Hey,” Schu said, getting up and stretching. “My power, I use it my way. I'm keeping you on a short leash now, horn dog, so get used to it.”

 

“Mmmm…you could use a real leash for this, you know,” Yohji said, getting up and kissing Schuldig's neck.

 

“Too bad they don't keep a pet…” Schu teased, smirking.

 

“I still can't believe you're letting us stay here now, to help Aya, even after…”

 

Schu patted Yohji. “You don't have to believe it. You can believe whatever you like. I'm not staying here for Aya's sake or your sake. If I let Aya stay broken until he self-destructs, that will hurt you, and what hurts you hurts me. I don't like to be hurt. REALLY don't like it,” he emphasized, fingers digging cruelly into the back of Yohji's neck.

 

“I - ow, quit it already! - I don't like hurting you. I think it'll be alright now, seeing him.”

 

“Uh-huh. It better be,” Schuldig said, reaching for the doorknob.