Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ When Blood Soils One's Hands ❯ Mischievous Maneuvering ( Chapter 9 )

Disclaimers : Sniff… Why? Oh why can't I own Weiss Kreuz? Just for one day, an hour, a minute… Pweez!!! Alright, alright! I don't own it and never will. *goes of pouting*.

Title: When Blood Soils One's Hands

Author: Black Mirror (stone_devil_666@hotmail.com)

Pairings : Just wait and see! I'm not gonna spoil the fun.

Summary: A mission goes wrong, teenagers from a certain school start missing, love is refused… welcome to Weiss!

Type: Angst and Romance

Rating: PG-13

Status: Work in progress

Warnings: YAOI!!! Partial child-rape, blood, murder… All those lovely things we like. Don't say I haven't warned you! Oh! And there might be bad language. Yes, I've made Ken swear. }:p Oh, Raven is mine and I would beg you not to steal him. If you like him enough to steal him, I'll let you borrow him. I also add that some of the torture will be referring to the catholic religion. I hope no one sees that as an inconvenience. Now, stop reading this and stroll down to the fic. }:)

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When Blood Soils One's Hands

Chapter IX

Mischievous Maneuvering

~*~

// Turn around

Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never coming around

Turn around

Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears

Turn around

Every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by

Turn around

Every now and then I get a little bit terrified and then I see the look in your eyes

Turn around bright eyes

Every now and then I fall apart

Turn around bright eyes

Every now and then I fall apart //

Total Eclipse of the Heart / Bonnie Tyler

~*~

I took me some time to realize the tape had ended. I guess I wasn't ready to accept the fact that. . . actually I don't even know what I wasn't ready to accept. I mean the whole thing was like a blur of emotions, actions and reactions to me.

Badly needing some time to decompress, without notifying anyone, I headed outside, not even bothering to close the door behind me. I vaguely recall hearing my name -or what seemed to be it- being shouted by an irritated voice, but no more. I reached my bike and grabbed the keys which I had placed in my coat's pockets earlier. I slipped it in and gave it a forceful turn. The ignition started off and, just as I was getting ready to leave, I pulled at my sleeve, revealing my watch. It was presently one o'clock in the morning. Almost sixteen minutes past one to be precise. Well, no bother. At least it wasn't raining.

Someone grabbed my shoulder, but it was already too late; the rubber of the tires screeched against the pavement and the bike set off, with me on it of course. I noticed I didn't even take the time to put on my helmet, but I couldn't care less.

It felt like I was flying, reaching upwards always. It felt like I had no boundaries. The wind played with my hair, tousling it from one side to the other, tangling it. Freely, it flew, pirouetting at its own free will. Though the wind also, partially blinded me as it hit my eyes with full force, I didn't even mind. I love ridding and it's in moment like these that I truly appreciate having 'mastered' such an art as biking. The fear of loosing control and the joy of being free formed a collision of sentiments that erupted in an explosion of excitement. It made me momentarily forget all other thoughts. It made me momentarily forget all suffering, both mine and others'.

I glanced down at the dashboard and checked my speed. 110 miles per hour: I could do better than that. Mindless, I accelerated, the idea of putting on my helmet never accruing to me.

The pressure of the wind against my body made it hard to breath and I willed it so. This way, I felt alive, all of my body parts screamed their discomfort, I worshiped this feeling of accomplishment and uneasiness, anxiety. I know you must all be thinking of me as being a masochist, but disabuse yourselves, I'm no more of a masochist than most of you. I do admit that pain and distress whilst still remaining excited removes all other haunting fears, but no more. I would not willingly cause myself pain if it where not completely blinding. I loved the feeling of danger brushing against my skin. I guess this isn't exactly the fictive image you had built around my character and I assure you I have not grown mad over the last few days, but there are times when you can't take it any more. A time when you have to blow out a little steam.

I watched as the vegetation around me seemed to flee, all trees and high grasses became hazy to such a point that there unrecognizable. As I road on, leaving a traces of civilization far behind me, I had no notion of the path I took. I simply noticed that fields were starting to appear at the edge of my vision. Fields of golden barley, or so I presumed. Forcing my bike to execute a sharp ninety degrees to the right, I entered one of the fields, its bumps bringing the ride to a higher level of difficulty. The high barley whipped my bare face and hands leaving narrow red marks and I couldn't care less.

Gradually, I slowed my speed -or more or less the bike's speed. I caught my breath, inhaling large amounts of air everytime. The pounding of my heart progressively subsided and returned to its normal pace.

When I finally came to a complete halt, I turned of the engine and lowered the stand which did not hold the weight of the bike long. It slowly sank in the dark soil. I sighed but didn't do anything about it.

I slumped to the ground and allowed the soon to come dew begin its job at humidifying all around, including myself. Up in the sky, the stars were still shining brightly. The sun would soon show its first bright rays. The birds would start chirping and tweeting, announcing their love from branch to branch. The wind would blow between the barley and its golden color would shimmer under the fair sun.

But I couldn't care less. I was haunted by Omi's face, his wide-eyed expression of utter fear.

What were they doing to him? What had they done? Had they truly violated him?

Again, that burning feeling within me exploded, though this time it was not out of hate, anger and disgust but out of fear and. . . actually I didn't know what else it was. Perhaps affection towards the genki boy. Affection I would have given any younger pretended 'brother'. Perhaps. . . fondness? Or friendliness? Perhaps. . .

At that moment, I started wondering if it was more than that. Beyond friendship and keenness. Omi had always been a weakness. He had always been very dear to me.

That night -almost morning- I emptied my heart. I yelled to the sky, uttering cries of rage and despair, screaming my loathe and abhorrence, my helplessness and my love. . . love? Was that really it? Was it love?

I cried all the tears a body could possibly contain. I hammered the ground with my infuriated fists. I kicked at the rocks around me, hurting myself more than anything else, and when the sun had finally risen, I sat near my bike and hugged myself, my arms wrapped around my knees which were close to my chest. I unhurriedly rocked from back to forth, letting my tears fall freely. I had finally fallen apart, had let go of my emotions and had taken all rage and hatred out of my body, of my mind. I was content. I could think without my mind being filled with haunting memories from yesterday and the day before. I could rest.

For all the way back -I had to look on the map because I was totally lost- I wore my helmet and tried to keep Omi out of my mind. Maybe if I was able to control my thoughts and mood swings I wouldn't have to break down again. I would have to try to remain strong. All hope was not lost yet.

~*~

When I finally arrived home, I saw Yohji on the front porch, sleeping like always, mouth wide-opened. I wondered how this couldn't bother. . . I mean with his playboy reputation and all. Imagine if a nice little girl spotted him snoring as loud as a lawboy engine on the front porch of our dwelling. Poor poor Yohji. Actually, that could be a very interesting experience to try.

Had he been waiting for me to return all night? Nah, this is Yohji after all. It must have been too hot to sleep in the house. With the wind outside it wasn't too hot.

I tried not to wake him as I went up the stairs to the front door, but he shifted his head to the side and almost fell of the chair he rested on.

"Oh, hey Kenken" he mumbled in a half-sleeping voice. "You know, I am not paying for all the gas you used up last night."

Well, we can always trust Yohji to try and make us pissed.

"You, idiotic oh-so-hard-working-person, don't even pay for the gas in roadster. You borrow it from us! You spend way too much money on those magazines of yours."

"Don't even go there. This month's issue is way overdue."

I hide my smile. Good old Yohji. . . Good oldish-youngish Yohji!

He got up and went to my bike. He circled it a few times, ignoring my glares of 'do-not-touch-the-bike-unless-totally-prepared-to-pay-the- concequences-of-your-foolish-acts'. Well, my glares were also very inquisitive, but I like the other glare version better.

"What are you trying to do?" he asked in an curious voice. "Trying to open your own public insectarium? If you do, I want half to profit!"

I then noticed that the bike was filled with bugs. I knew I'd have to wash them off soon, before they glued there and wouldn't come out. Great! This is disgusting.

"Hold your horses you stupid perverted playboy. Where's Aya?"

"You forgot to say please-" he smirked.

And life had just fell down the drain. Again, might I add. Yup, down the drain again!

"Would you please tell me were our beloved ice-hearted leader is, my very dear companion."

Yohji seemed to be evaluating my newly polite sentence. Deeming it perfectly worthy, he answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm:

"Now, let's see, where could he be hiding?"

He looked at his wrist, pulling at his sleeve to reveal his watch. I looked at him curiously. What was that dumb idiot doing, again? I rolled my eyes, getting slightly impatient. Patience with this blond-playboy is never a virtue.

"Where do you think our mighty self-proclaimed leader could be at five in the morning?"

It hit me like a bullet hits its target: in bed. True, I'd completely omitted the time factor. Of course, he could also have not been asleep. You can never affirm to be sure with Aya -add freaky yet very entertaining music here. He'd probably be getting up in an hour or so. He usually would wake up around six thirty. Enough time to eat breakfast and prepare the shop. He was on job duty with Yohji that morning anyhow. We frequently all help around eight and four -beginnings and endings of a school day being as charged as they often are, the four pairs of arms were highly required.

It was too late to try to get some sleep, so I decided to get a little something to fill my very empty stomach and then maybe try to catch some shut eye if possible at all.

"I'm both beat and starved, care to join me in a breakfast set for two?"

His eyes glowed and a seducing smile appeared on his lips.

"I never thought you'd ask" he answered, faking a bashful facial cast. The puppy-look! And I hope we all know what I am referring to.

I turned the knob and entered the house. As we both neared the kitchen, I could hear some dishes being banged together. Well, seems like Aya was a sleepwalker. It was either that or he wasn't asleep at all. Knowing Aya as I know him -though you can never completely know Aya nor can you guess his intentions- I'd voted for the second option. Come on, can anyone who isn't drunk or psychotic claim that they can imagine Aya sleepwalking? That is exactly what I thought. Aya would make a very lousy sleepwalker!

"Aya?" Yohji was the first to ask and I wondered why he even bothered to ask if it was he. Who else could it be?

I single grunt affirmed my being right. Of course, I didn't need anything to prove that I was right, I was always right. Yes, now I'm being egocentric and spoiled by my own qualities. I rather like that: spoiled by my own qualities.

"Seems like the intimate breakfast has just been called off, huh Kenken?"

I turned to him and let out a crude:

"Yohji, shut up."

I don't know why, I didn't really didn't want Aya to know about Yohji and me fooling around together -fooling around as in having fun not as in. . . well you know. . . stop thinking like that.

He crossed both arms over his chest and simply replied, as if asking him to shut up had merely been a long past dream:

"One minute he's hitting on you and the next he's telling you to shut it. I can see why your only popular with kids. Man, it'll take a lot of work to make you datable."

Aya didn't say anything. I didn't expect him to anyhow. He leaned against the counter, his back facing us, while he washed the dishes we had used to make diner the night before. At least it saved me the trouble of doing them.

"We're going to retrieve Arosaki" his monotonous voice ordered. Yes, that was more of an order than a statement.

Yohji and I both gaped, mouth hanging low enough the touch the ground. Hadn't we already cleared the 'bringing back corpses in cars' factor? Or so I thought.

"But. . . but" I hesitantly mumbled.

"If that is what Raven is after, than we wont give him the pleasure of obtaining it. We will retrieve the body and that is final."

My eyes wide-opened and the little of tiredness that had previously rendered me sleepy had now completely disappeared and I gazed at Aya who didn't seem the least preoccupied by our dumbfounded looks.

Yohji turned his head to the side, his eyes meeting mine and I would have had to laugh if we wouldn't have been in this situation. I'd never seen Yohji look so ridiculous with his eyes practically hanging out of their sockets and his mouth hanging so low. The idea of the dead rotten corpse that would be Arosaki killed all urges of laughing, but, as Aya, I knew it had to be done.

This time, though, it was Yohji's turn to protest.

"But. . . " he stammered, "but my beautiful car. My genuine roadster. It's- it's going to be ruined. "

Oh faithful motorcycle of mine, how much I love thee.

"Come on Yohji" I laughed, "don't be such a baby."

"Well, it's my car" he childishly answered.

I didn't even bother to hide my smile. His immature pout was way too much to keep my face straight.

"If you two aren't ready in half an hour, I'm leaving without you."

Just try to guess who that was. The ice-man.

Half an hour. . . so much for a little nap. Well, at least it gives me enough time to eat and change. I walked over to the table and grabbed an already used plate -you could easily tell from the noticeable bread crumbs. I found both the bread and the milk on the table and served myself as I grabbed a freshly clean glass from the pile Aya had cleaned and dried. Furious eye-lightning from the red-head which I ignored to spread some jam and peanut butter on my slices of bread. Add a few bananas and there you go. Give it a try, it's delicious!

I took a gulp of milk and swallowed it quickly. I heard Yohji leave the kitchen, probably went to his room to change or to the bathroom to 'doll up'. Even when retrieving a dead body, you must look your best. Yup, that's doubtlessly what he would've said, but I didn't bother to ask.

"Aya" I asked suddenly curious "have you found out anything with the tape. Any other clues?"

Not even bothering to turn around, his hands plunged in citrus-smelling water, he replied:

"It's funny you should ask because you just ran out on us then."

Nervously, I scratched my head. Aya always had the nick to make people nervous, didn't he?

"Let's just say. . . " I began "I needed time to decompress. "

"We found out how much of a looser he is" somebody -I wonder who- yelled from another room. "Must be another case of 'my-parents-never-gave-me- enough-love-and-attention-in-my-childhood-years'."

What a great step we'd just made. Yohji can just elude any mystery there is.

"One thing's for sure, he knows about Weiss" the redundant voice continued.

Surprised, I redirected all my attention to Aya. How could it be. How could he know about Weiss. We'd been subtle and everything. I mean, it's not as if we were running down the street screaming 'we are assassin, hunters of the night, we are Weiss! Gimme a W! Gimme an E! Gimme an I! Gimme an S and gimme another one! Weiss, weiss weiss! Yes, I guess I am slightly overreacting. I tend to do that when under a lot of pressure.

"Yeah," Yohji said as he entered the room, "he's been calling Omi kitten all along. I don't even know if he knows the kids name or not. Haven't even heard him say it once."

"He likes blue" I added a shamed of my lame discovery.

"Good Kenken finds good clues."

I turned an irritated glare to Yohji. We were at it again.

"For some unknown reason, he doesn't want Omi to know we're watching. Perhaps to make him feel abandoned and weak."

"Doesn't he give us a reason?" I asked.

"Only that it could compromise his plans" Aya retorted.

Aya was surely on to something, but there were so many things that weren't resolved in this puzzle of enigmas.

"He also claims to be Omi's worst nightmare. What do you think about that?"

I stopped to think a minute. I remembered thinking it was simply an expression he'd used, nothing of importance. Simply meaning that he was the worst 'thing' he'd ever come across. I echoed my thoughts with words:

"Wasn't it a simple expression? Meaning he'd do the worst things he'd ever had done to him?"

Aya pulled out a chair from under the table and sat, placing both of his elbows on the table.

"What if it was more? I remember hearing Omi say he'd been seeing a weird person in his dreams lately."

"Ya, but that could be from his past. We don't know that. It could have something to do with the kidnapping and everything" Yohji spoke up before I even had time to react.

"Aya," I wondered aloud "are you thinking that Raven was the one Omittchi was seeing in his dreams? What in the world would make you think that?"

Aya leaned back, resting his weight against the back of the chair. He crossed his arms over his chest, his index tapping his upper arm at a fast rhythm.

"Omi's face didn't seem right when he saw Raven. I don't think he would have react that way if it where a simple individual he'd never seen before."

Something in me clicked. Something inside told me that Aya was right. I remembered how Omi hadn't even seemed to mind the nails in his hands and feet. You have to be pretty preoccupied no to notice such wounds. I mean, they are all the freakin' way through. Could it be. . . Could Omi have already seen him in nightmares?

"Aya, it still doesn't make any sense" Yohji maintained. "don't tell me you started believing those premonition thingies?"

Premonitions? 'These aren't ordinary killers, they say God sends them images of how he wants the victims to be tortured. They also have precise descriptions of the boy they have to look for'.

So if they saw him in their heads, why wouldn't Omi?

"We'd better get going" I said as I noticed the half an hour had passed a few ten minutes ago. "Who's going to watch the shop?"

Aya, as our faithful self-proclaimed leader decided on that:

"Ken, you're going with me and Yohji you stay here and open the shop."

"Hey!" the blond idiot pouted "Why do I have to missed out on all the fun."

Miss out? That lucky couch-potato won't even have to go near that half rotten corpse. He should count himself as extremely fortuitous. I'd stay if I weren't forced to go.

I guess Yohji thought the same thing as I did for he didn't seem that regretful anymore. Then his face darkened again.

"Does that mean you'll be taken the roadster?" he doubtfully asked Aya.

A simple glare shut him up real good. The ice-man's glares are so efficacious. I won't to be able to do them to. Life can get so unfair from time to time.

Two minutes later -long enough for me to gobble down the remains of my toast and change my clothes- we were off. It took us an hour and. . . let's just say two hours to get there and boy was I tired. I hadn't noticed how tired I was until a little later when on the road. I was going to bed as soon as we arrived back at home.

Seeing the base where we'd been captured brought back old memories I'd tried so hard to bury and suddenly I wondered how I could have simply brushed all my emotions away. The environment seemed different, perhaps was it because it wasn't raining cats and dogs. Perhaps because we knew no danger awaited us. Perhaps was it because we weren't exactly on a mission. I just couldn't lay my finger on it.

We started to dig up the still freshly buried corpse and it wasn't too long until we hit something. We then threw our shovels to the side and dug with our hands, we didn't want to cut and mush the body more then it already was. Strangely, I still had that lingering feeling in the back of my mind. I soon found out what it referred to. We never found the body. The one thing we did find was a tape.

~*~*~*~