Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ When Blood Soils One's Hands ❯ Even the Most Impatient Lions ( Chapter 10 )

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 X

Even the Most Impatient Lions

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// Times seems to have frozen

But the mind can't be fooled

As the days past I discover

Destiny just can't be ruled //

// Oh, it's the price we gotta pay

And all the games we gotta play

Makes me wonder if it's worth it to carry on

`Cause it's a game we gotta lose

Though it's a life we gotta choose

And the price is our own life until it's done //

--The Price / Twisted Sister--

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I remember not being able to think straight for the entire way back. I'd driven my bike without a single thought crossing my mind. I reckon that happening often during that lapse of time. In a matter of what I had guessed was minutes but was in fact hours of riding, we'd gotten home safely and I still couldn't bring my brain to work properly, to comprehend the situation. If I had, I guess I'd probably be nuts by now. I now understand how people who's children or friends have been victims of kidnappings must feel. I guess it's a hard thing to grasp until it has actually happened to you. And even with it happening, juggling with your life and emotions, you still manage to try to make it all disappear, to forget. You'd never think it could happen to you until it has. You'd never think all those things on the news could actually happen to you. . . no, not to your happy -sometimes irritating nonetheless always accepting- and gentle family. Well, you guessed wrong. I do admit we -Weiss that is- are more prone to being victims of `losses', but nothing like this. Schwarz would probably be up to anything, but a psychotic nobody that resembles a mixture of Farfarello and Schuldich. . . who could have anticipated. Just keep in mind that no one is immortal or immune. Hell is everywhere and it is ready to engulf anything a person can give him. Tilting to the pessimistic side again and always. Long live me. . .

Alright, my moral lesson is pretty much over, I'm sure you'd all like to know what was on the tape. I don't really understand your haste, but let's just see.

I also had to consider the facts. Noticing that Arosaki's corpse had disappeared, that could only mean one thing: Omi had talked. Did it ultimately have to be caused by that? Omi would never betray us. . . He would never. The chibi was a lot stronger than he seemed to be. Alright, his mental state was quite -how can I put this- frail, now more than ever, but physically he was a strong kid. Stronger than a kid his age should ever have to be.

At first, we arrived at the house and, after parking both car and bike, Aya and I entered the house. Aya called for Yohji, seeing he had closed the shop. I couldn't believe it had taken us all morning to travel there and back. I looked at my watch and where it was clearly marked 12:32 PM. Well, no wonder my stomach was grumbling like crazy. I wondered why I hadn't even noticed the sunrise. I hadn't even noticed anything at all. I'd followed the roadster without a thought -as stated earlier.

"Yohji" Aya called again, his dull voice showing signs of a little -almost imperceptible- impatience -or was it anger?

"I'm not getting anywhere near that half-rotten, stinky thing!" someone -and I wonder who- yelled from another room. Well, would you actually expect something intelligent coming from Yohji? I wouldn't ever count on it. And how could he know it was stinky and half-rotten, he hadn't even seen it. Well, I guess his speculation would have been precise even so. Almost three complete days - let's just say two and a half- in ground must not make leave you with a rose's scent and a perfect skin complexion. Maybe the snow white shimmered with light and gorgeousness when the prince kissed her, long after she'd departed her life, but let's just say that earth is not `once upon a time'. At least, that's what I think! Lets just assume Yohji and I march to a different drummer. . . It's easier to enumerate our incompatibilities.

"We don't have the `thing'" I yelled to Yohji, sending the sound of my voice where I had heard his come from.

"What do you mean `we don't have it'? Weren't you suppose to bring it? Was it already entirely decomposed?"

Again, you can always trust that dumb-blond to be idiotic and. . . dumb.

"He wasn't even there, you ass!" I retorted with irritation.

"What do you mean `he wasn't even there'?" I wondered why he left out the ass part.

"Would you stop repeating everything I say and come h. . . " and stopped in the middle of the word, my sentence remaining incomplete, when I noticed Aya wasn't in the hall anymore.

I looked around a little until I heard something coming from the living room. I recognized the voice as being Raven's and couldn't believe Aya hadn't waited for us. He'd started watching the tape while I was desperately trying to get Yohji to stop playing hide and seek.

"Ken?" I heard the blond supposedly `adult' ask as I wandered into the small living room where the television and VCR had both been turned on. As I entered, I interrupted on a halfway through conversation Raven was having with himself.

"-it seems. Have you been looking in the wrong places or have you simply been looking at wrong?"

I didn't understand quite well what the guy meant by that. In fact, I didn't understand squat. Hadn't he mentioned wanting Arosaki's body? Why would we have been looking in the wrong places. We knew where we'd buried the body -of course- and had dug at that exact place. We weren't that dumb. . . I guess. Or, more or less, I hoped.

I turned to Aya, hoping he'd at least answer my upcoming questions since he hadn't even bothered waiting for us to start the visioning.

"Wha-?"

I was cut off by a furious growl. Well, looks like Aya's as friendly and affectionate as ever.

Yohji -finally- entered the room. He moved forward and slouched on the couch. Seemed like he was done hiding.

Raven continued, explaining his earlier statement:

"You see, I simply asked our dear victim where you'd buried the body, I never said I wanted it. Open the memory drawer and search a little. I remember saying I would test his honesty. See just how long it is possible for him to hold his tongue."

This story was getting more and more complicated by the minute. Where did the body go then?

"He doesn't want Arosaki?" Yohji exclaimed, incomprehension written all over his face.

"It is foolish of you to jump on every occasion you have without thinking twice. How could I put this into words: even the most impatient lions, in their haste, choke on their repast."

And away he goes with the incomprehensible riddles. Just his style. Seems fitting enough, I find. Repast. . . couldn't he just say meal or lunch. This freak is way beyond my understanding.

"By the way," he adds after a short moment of reflection, "is this who you're seeking to find?"

The camera turned -what I guessed was a hundred and eighty degree spin- and faced a door. A chalk-white hand reached for the door knob and, sitting up straight on a chair, tied around his torso and arms, rendered mute by a scarf tightly attached in the back of his head -his mouth must've been stuffed with another clothe but that I couldn't tell for sure- you can only start guessing who that was. Well, I'll give you a hint. The first letter in his name is an A, closely followed by these few syllables :rosaki. Arosaki. It was easy to tell because I hadn't been able to erase his face from my memory ever since we'd found him dead. The pictures Manx had given to us had remained in my mind as did Omi's face when he gazed up at Raven for the first time. I can't explain why, they just do. My brain works just like a camera: take a few shots and then develop it all and wait to see how it turns out and even if it doesn't turn out the way you thought it would, you keep that picture and hide it somewhere with all others that have missed their target.

"What the hell?" I exclaimed aloud.

"What?" Yohji asked, completely oblivious of the fact that this kid, guy -whatever- was suppose to be dead. For God's sake, we'd buried him, hadn't we?

"It's Arosaki" Aya whispered through his teeth, as though opening his mouth to allow a better pronunciation would cause him to speak more than his `word quota' permitted him to.

Raven did not stop at that -why would he? He spoke up, his self-confidence showing clearly on his features. He moved forward, leaning towards the camera and blocking most of our view.

"Now, I do feel you need a few explanations. Being the very generous person I surely am, I've decided it only fair to give you a call."

That response took me aback. He couldn't just call here, could he? We could trace his call. What was he thinking? Hey, I wasn't complaining: it would probably give us a little more of those much needed clues. Had he truly said he'd give away some explanations? Was this simply another one of his tricks.

As if on cue, the phone rang. My concentration must have been pretty intense because that annoying ringing sent chills down my spin and made me shiver. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

The slight freight having passed, I rushed to my feet and headed straight towards the hall where the wireless phone hung on the wall. Of course, like all wireless phones, it wasn't in its original place. That's what happens with those `god damn new technology' phones, you forget them everywhere. I heard the television sound behind me, a cruelly intriguing background, as I searched all over the place. I ran to the kitchen, trying to follow the ringing and found the lovable phone well placed on the counter. I jumped over the misplaced chairs, nearly knocking myself over in the prospect, and grabbed it. Could it really be him? I wondered what kind of information he'd give. He could also simply reveal false clues to `fuck' us up and leave us in the dark -not that we weren't' in the dark already- lead us astray. I prepared myself mentally, trying to find something appropriate to say. Even though I couldn't seem to find anything -what do you say to someone who kidnapped one of your closest friends?-, I pressed on talk and hoped to improvise some sort of catch up phrase that would be fitting. I'd hoped in vain. . .

"What the fuck did you do to him, you sadistic bastard?" I yelled splattering the phone with sputters. Well, so much for a suitable -also meaning polite- greeting sentence. I regretted not having more self-control, but, then again, that is who I am and I guess I just can't change that in a day or two. I just remember thinking that I had to work a little more on that. You can't get rid of all of your faults and you just aren't human if you don't have any. Yeah, even Omi's not perfect: he hates celery and that can't be too healthy. I'm blabbering, aren't I? You're getting sick and tired of me, aren't you? Oh well. . . at least I'm honest.

"K-ken?"

Strangely, the voice on the phone possessed a tone that seemed a little more feminine than it should have been -a little more familiar also.

"Am I calling at a bad time?"

Oops, it was Manx. I'd just said. . . oh well.

"M-manx? Let's just say I-I didn't think it was you and leave it at that." A fiery blush appeared on my cheeks, I could feel it grow as I sheepishly tried to pass the stage of the multiple `why-the-hell-did-you-say-that's.

"Yohji told us you'd been having some problems with the computer hacking."

Yohji? Even Yohji was getting intelligent as time passed. He'd thought about helping me out. Well, seemed like I could see light at the end of the tunnel. The construction of a flawless friendship layed a little further ahead.

"Yohji told you what?"

There was a pause before she continued, her tone of voice snickering a little.

"Did I say Yohji? I meant Aya."

Who could have guessed? By the way, that was a very sarcastic remark.

"Aya told me you'd been having troubles with the police's security systems. What are you looking for exactly?"

I shrugged off all previous thoughts and went back to our conversation.

"I just thought it could be a good idea to check through some of the criminal records. Since we know what he looks like but can't find him anywhere, maybe we could get some clues there. It's a pretty vague guess, but it's the best I was able to come up with."

"Hum. . . I think it's actually a good idea. You probably won't be able to pass through all of the records, but you might get lucky. I asked some of the guys from the agency to check it out for you and. . . "

I cut through her speech. It wasn't that it wasn't interesting, but I wondered:

"Manx, do you think it's safe to speak about this over the phone? Anybody could be listening, no?"

"Don't worry about it" she replied quickly, "I've secured the line. Now, as I was saying, I had somebody work on it and I have the password you were looking for. Got a paper and a pen?"

I went to my room, bringing the phone with me -we'd probably end up searching for it later- and grabbed a sheet of paper and a blue colored pen.

"Yup" I nodded and spoke all at once.

"Here it goes, it's series of numbers: 143-980-570-089. Got that?"

I finished writing it down, awkwardly holding the phone with my shoulder and trying to mark everything down at the same time. My position must have been hilarious, but I didn't have time to laugh at my own self. Too bad, I could have used a few good laughs.

"Think so. Would you repeat it to be sure?"

"143-980-570-089"

"Alright, thanks Manx."

I shoved the paper in my pocket and went to my desk where I'd placed Omi's laptop. I pushed the power key and waited for technology to put to work its magic.

"Anytime and tell me if ever you need anything else."

We both hung p the phone after short goodbyes and I went to work. I had so much to catch up with.

The computer powered up and I popped the CD in the slot. Soon, the word name and password appeared on the screen and I proudly typed:

-Name: N. Sakawa

-Password: 143-980-570-089

-Loading in progress.

And do the happy dance! It's easy; your butt twitches to the left and your arms wave to the right. Then change; your butts twitches the right and your arms wave to the left. You get the picture, right?

As it slowly downloaded some of the information on to the hard drive, I waited patiently, pondering on where I was going to beginning my research. Newest to oldest: that seemed good enough. I couldn't go back too far because he was only so old.

The first profiles appeared on the computer screen. So, this is what people mean by `my life is an open book'? In this case it's more like an open folder, but who cares. I even had psychiatrists' reviews on their very sick and twisted patients.

-child kills mother and father because they beat him up.

-man slaughters eight coworkers by `accidentally' dropping a load of construction material on their heads.

-woman kills other woman with umbrella after seeing her kissing her husband.

This was somewhat a bloodier version of the seven o'clock news.

Then, something caught my attention. In one of the profiles, I could recognize the woman on the picture. I just couldn't tell where I'd seen her. She had a short cut. . .

"Kenken!" Yohji's irritatingly taunting voice chanted as he entered my room. "Aren't you gonna ask me what contained the end of the tape?"

The tape? What tape? Of course, the tape! I hadn't even finished watching it.

"Whatcha doing?" he asked, his snooping attitude already innerving me.

I decided to respond to his inquisitive question because if I didn't I knew he'd be on my case all night.

"I was able to open the police headquarters' system and I am scanning for clues."

He nodded, seemingly accepting what I had just told him. Proving to him that I wasn't as much of a potato-couch as he was, I typed away on the blond bishounen's laptop -yes, yes, the one I'd stolen from his room.

"Who was on the phone?"

"Manx" I answered, keeping it brief and snappy. I didn't want to get into the details or give him any chances of starting another fight. I never start the fights, it's all his doing.

It seemed as though he grew tired of my short and `straight to the point' answers and simply walked back out, his feet dragging on the floor.

"Well, seems like we'll be getting a call for Raven sooner or later. After your reaction, I just hope you're not the one who answers the phone."

Well, well, well, seems like somebody started eaves-dropping. Why did he even bother asking who was on the phone then? Yohji is both a complete fool and a mystery. I turned my attention to the laptop again and continued my persistent researching. I just hoped I'd find something before the day was over. This kind of thing tends to discourage me after a while.

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