Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Watch Me As I Fade Away ❯ Farfarello's room? ( Chapter 11 )

 

“Earth command to Captain Tsukiyono….”

 

Huh?

 

Why is Farfer—Jei calling me Tsuki….oh right, now I remember.

 

“You okay dude? You totally spaced out there for a minute. In fact it looked like you were checking out my mom!”

 

“Uh….” Shitohshitohshit….Can't he see I'm about to have a nervous breakdown right now? Just shut up already!

 

“You come from a festival or something?”

 

“What?” How can he act so normal? He DID try to kill Ruth! He's posing as an ordinary—no not quite ordinary—well, harmless, person, while all the while he's still a murderous psycho!

 

“A festival,” he continues, completely oblivious to my internal panic attack, “your clothes, I'm assuming you don't walk around in traditional garb every day?”

 

“Er….yeah. Was visiting a temple this morning….” I need to talk to Ruth alone, how can I make him and Aya go away?

 

Jei nods. “Wanna borrow something normal to wear while you're visiting?” He asks thoughtfully. Or, pretending to be thoughtful so he can lull me into a false sense of security and then hideously dismember me in my sleep….

 

“Sure,” I answer, not sure at all if I want to touch anything he owns.

 

“Alright then, follow me,” Jei hops up from the table and heads towards the door.

 

“Follow you?” I ask, hoping that my voice isn't betraying my nervousness.

 

“Yeah. To my room,” he says, the patience in his voice starting to slip just ever-so-slightly, “for, you know, clothes? I was correct in assuming that you would prefer to change without my mother as an audience…unless you're into that sort of thing?” he quirks an eyebrow questioningly.

 

Unable to articulate an answer, I just dumbly shake my head.

 

Ruth, however, steps up to my rescue.

 

“Stop teasing him Jei, Can't you see the poor boy's in shock? Here he's come a long way in search of a friend, only to learn that they've been in an accident! Why it's a wonder that his nerves haven't shattered!”

 

Jei's expression immediately sobers and he turns to bow to Ruth. “You're right mother, that was thoughtless of me. I'll take him now, and fix him up.”

 

“Give him something nice to wear, Jei,” Ruth adds, “not one of those ratty t-shirts you're always wearing.”

 

Ruth's words are almost lost on me though, my mind stuck on Jei's comment to `fix me up.' Fix me up? With what, knives? His offer was just a trick to get me alone in his room! Can't Ruth see that's she's sending me to my death?

 

Okay Ken, snap out of it. I have no proof that this Farfarello is anything like the other one. Maybe the cuts on Ruth's hands are a total coincidence. Maybe she had some sort of accident. Jei might have even saved her for all I know. I need to stop jumping to conclusions. I'm an assassin for chrissakes! I can handle being alone in a room with one guy…though of all the enemies I could face, the thought of fighting Farfarello has always creeped me out the most….

 

Oh shit. There's his door.

 

Gulp.

 

“You're really not looking so hot man, you wanna lie down for a bit?”

 

“No!”

 

Jei looks surprised by the forcefulness of my response.

 

“Chill out,” he says, patting me on the shoulder, “I'm not going to force you to take a nap, heh.”

 

I involuntarily close my eyes as the door pulls open.

 

I never ever thought I'd see the day where I'd be hanging out in Farfarello's bedroom.

 

What's gonna be in here? A coffin? Various torture devices? An iron maiden? Some kind of morose religious shrine in the very least….

 

One eye slowly opens to take in a jumbled mass of color.

 

A pile of corpses?!

 

Oh…wait. It's a crocheted afghan. I guess that's his…bed?

 

Berserker sleeps under a crocheted afghan?

 

Stop it Ken, this isn't Berserker….

 

I open my other eye to behold the looming image of John Lennon. Okay so the only dead person in here is a poster on his wall; so far so good.

 

Jei is humming to himself as he digs through a clothes hamper. The mere level of happiness this guy exudes is cause for suspicion enough. It's just not natural.

 

“I know mom said `no ratty t-shirts',” Jei seems to be talking to me, “but I'm afraid that's all I've really got at the moment, man, I haven't bought new clothes in years, just seems like a waste when the old ones still keep me warm, ya know?”

 

I acknowledge him with a nod but continue surveying his room. He sure has a lot of philosophy books in here. I never really took him for the reading type; although, that might be because I never really took him for any type, aside from `sociopathic freakazoid.'

 

“I mean, we buy new clothes fairly often,” Jei explains—is he still taking about clothes?—“but I'd rather just give the new ones to charity and keep wearing the old ones, why should a poor person have to wear hand-me-downs, when I still like my old stuff….”

 

Hmm, is he being serious or is all this Mr. Nicety-nice-nice just an act to build up my trust? Yohji always warned me that I exude an aura of guilibility….

 

“So here's one you can keep if you want,” Jei tosses me a faded blue shirt with `What would Jesus do?' in bold white type across the chest, “I've kinda outgrown it.”

 

“Uh…” I stumble, “I think I'm bulkier than you, how could I wear it if it no longer fits you?”

 

“I didn't mean I'd physically outgrown it,” Jei cryptically replies, tapping his head.

 

Aha! He admits he has turned evil in this world too! “You now object to Christian ideals, you mean?” I pry.

 

“No,” Jei says with a creepily serene smile, “but I find the teachings of my mother's church to be a bit metaphysically restricting; I've become more of a `God is too big for one religion' kinda guy. Hey, are you Buddhist? I'd love to meditate with you some time if you do that kinda thing!” Well that wasn't exactly the response I expected….

 

I shake my head, “no…I'm not really anything at all.” What's the point? There's probably an executive parking spot in Hell with my name on it already waiting for me….

 

“Oh really?” he asks questioningly, “I assumed you were the religious type since you recognized my mom, heh….”

 

I shake my head again….why do I feel guilty all of the sudden?

 

“Ah well, then this one's definitely not for you,” the shirt flies back towards the hamper, “No worries though, I'm not really anything myself, either! I think people who try to impose definitions upon God are blinding themselves to the big picture—hey how's this one?” a slightly less tattered shirt soars through the air and lands on my face. He so did that on purpose.

 

I pull it off and inspect it.

 

This one has a picture of a charmingly depressed whale hovering over the quote “facing extinction.”

 

A shiver runs down my neck.

 

A coincidental choice from an environmentally conscious citizen? Or an intentional hint from a closet psychopath planning to kill me? Shit, even in a different reality this guy screws with my head.

 

“It's fine,” I say, trying to mask my unease as I pull off Yohji's gi and slip the depressed whale shirt over my head.

 

“Hmmm….” Jei seems to be talking to himself, “what do I have…” more rummaging, “would you prefer jeans or cargo pants?”

 

“Whatever you can spare,” I reply agreeably. He pulls out a pair of jeans which have sacrificed 40 percent of their surface coverage to colorful patches, and a pair of cargo pants that have more buckles than pockets. The latter there seems more like the Farfarello I know….

 

He looks apologetic, “um, I can try to find something in the church's charity bin if you'd like?”

 

“Nah,” I say good-naturedly, “those cargo pants look perfect, I'll try those.” Okay, so I admit that decision was really based on a macabre curiosity to gain some insight into what being Farfarello must feel like. I've always wondered how he could fight so well with all those straps and junk hanging off his pants…

 

…I'm gonna regret this, aren't I?

 

Jei looks me over approvingly, and gives me a thumbs-up, “looking good man! You really pull off my style well!”

 

Huh? I look down at what I'm now wearing. This constitutes a style? What's he call it, eco-grunge?

When I pull my gaze back, I notice he's still staring at me. The knot of unease forming in my stomach tightens. What is he thinking? What's going through Jei's head while he's looking at me?

 

I avert my eyes and go back to studying his room; I don't want him to know that he's making me uncomfortable.

 

Let's see, it doesn't really fit anything I would have expected. There's nothing morose about it…well except he's got a little paper maché skeleton dressed like Elvis on his window sill. Though, in regards to that, the words “tasteless” jump to mind before “morose” does. Next to it is s flowerpot, which instead of holding flowers is full of grass—it's not even fancy mondo grass or anything, it's like the stuff you find growing in sidewalk cracks—which has unevenly trimmed patches in it…like someone's been eating it?

 

Please tell me he isn't the one snacking on that. I can't help glancing at him as I imagine Jei chowing down on a salad made of sidewalk weeds.

 

Eep! He's still watching me! What is he up to?

 

Room…room…don't look at him, focus on the room….

 

No anti-religious images. In fact, the walls are pretty much bare aside from the Lennon poster and a quilt tacked up across the room….

 

Hello, Déjà vu.

 

That quilt. I've seen that quilt before!

 

How do I recognize something that belongs to Farfarello when I've never…oh that's right. In my world it wasn't Farfarello who had that quilt, it was Ruth. I saw it on her website! She called it `the angel tapestry' or something like that, and she expected Farfarello would come for it….

 

It's important.

 

But it looks a little different here. Dirtier. There's a large stain eclipsing one of the angels. A rusty brown stain. A very familiar stain. I own far too many articles of clothing with stains like that.

 

Why does Jei own a blanket covered with blood?

 

I'm riveted. I can't stop looking at the thing. The stain is so big. Someone lost a lot of blood. Was it Jei? He's lacking all the scars Farfarello has....

 

“Isn't it pretty?”

 

Jei's unexpected comment makes me jump.

 

“Huh?” I stutter.

 

“The tapestry,” Jei says, “it's pretty, isn't it? I mean, you're probably not into angels or anything, but you've gotta admire the skill it took to make it, huh? I've tried sewing, I have to admit, and I downright suck.”

 

I nod, not sure how to reply.

 

“My mom made it,” he adds proudly, “it was a present for Gracie because she memorized the creation story in the Bible.”

 

My stomach feels like it's full of lead, “Gracie?”

 

“My sister.”

 

The lead in my stomach turns to ice. Farfarello had a sister. She's dead. Where is Jei's sister?

 

“You…have a sister?” I ask timidly.

 

“I did,” he replies, in a melancholy hush.

 

I know I'll regret asking this, but I can't stop myself. “What happened to her?”

 

“Well, it's kinda funny you should ask that,” he says, scratching the back of his head casually, “I sort of killed her.”

 

Although I half expected this, hearing the words drains every ounce of warmth out of my being. I can actually feel the color leaving my face. Is he toying with me? How can he talk about this like it's nothing? He's psychologically toying with me before the kill…..

 

“Are you okay man?” he asks.

 

Am I okay? How the Hell could he expect me to be okay after telling me something like that? Of course I'm not okay! I can't even answer, I just stare at him emotionlessly.

 

“You don't have to freak out,” he says, “she's in a better place now. She's way happier there.”

 

“How could you know that?” I answer coldly.

 

“Cause I've been there,” he says cheerfully, “after I realized what I'd done, I killed myself too.”