Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ You Could Be the One ❯ Chapter 1

SPOILERS: mentions of "Mission 12: Abschied-- Why," "Mission 13: Bruch-- Rain of Revenge," "Mission 15: Duell-- Hunters of Revenge," "Mission 25: Ende des Weiss -- To the Knights," "Verbrechen," "Strafe," the CDs, "Last Mission 12: Epitaph," and "Last Mission 13: Tomorrow."
ARCHIVAL/DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere, as long as you ask me first.
FEEDBACK: can be sent to Viridian5@aol.com.
DISCLAIMERS: All things Weiß Kreuz belong to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiß, Polygram k.k., and Animate Film. No infringement intended.
NOTES: All lyrics are from "You Could Be the One" by The Sisters of Mercy.

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"You Could Be the One"
By Viridian5
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"All God's children give good phone.
I called Jesus, he's not home, so
I'm so pleased to talk to you...."
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Aya sneered at the arrangement taking shape in his hands. The customer wanted lilies in it, so lilies he would get, no matter how tacky they might look here. Customers should not be told that they had no taste, just as Weiß's adoring public should not be commanded to leave if they refused to buy anything. So Omi had said, before giving Aya a time-out in the trailer, as if Aya were a child to be taught better manners.

Not that Aya cared much. Carefully calibrating the level of misanthropy he displayed had earned him some respite. Here he didn't have to deal with squealing schoolgirls or his too-familiar teammates. Living in a small trailer with the other three, he saw more than enough of them as it was.

He was only still here because he had nowhere else to go and nothing more to do now that Takatori was dead and his sister was awake.

He actually missed his sister more now that she'd recovered from her coma. At least before he had dared to visit her. Now he never saw her.

The cell phone on the table broke the wonderful quiet by playing a disgustingly peppy song. Someone might be calling in an order, though they probably wouldn't be able to fill it. It was a good thing that they actually made their money from assassination, because the traveling florist shop would sink on its own. They never stayed anywhere long enough to create a customer base, and putting out their cell phone number did little good when they'd likely be in a different part of the country by the time anyone tried it.

Still... Aya picked up the phone. "Hello. Kitten in the House floral arrangements." The others rarely let him answer calls. Yoji said that he had a good voice but his phone manner sucked.

"I want to order an arrangement," a male voice said. It sounded muffled, yet vaguely familiar.

"What do you want in it?"

"You and me."

Pervert. Aya pressed the button to end the call and put the phone down.

Disgustingly peppy music played again. It might be an actual customer calling. Probably not, but.... Aya picked up the phone. "Hello. Kitten in the House floral arrangements."

The same voice answered, "That was rude of you."

So was this. Aya ended the call, set the phone to vibrate, and placed it on the table. The phone immediately started to vibrate and rattle against the hard surface of the table. Aya tossed it onto the middle of the couch and went back to his tacky arrangement.

At closing, Aya helped them bring everything inside, then retreated to a corner of the couch with a book, hoping that the appearance of reading would tell them to leave him alone. It usually worked on Ken and Omi, though Yoji could be a pain in the ass at those times when he decided to reform Aya's character by attempting to drag him out for a night on the town.

"Aya! There are 20 messages on this! You should have answered the phone," Omi said.

"I did, the first two times. It wasn't a customer."

"We never get any good messages on that thing, so I'm not surprised," Yoji said. "So, who was it the first two times?"

"A prank caller."

With the phone to his ear, Omi blushed deeply and looked horrified, then put the phone down. "I don't have to listen to any more. I think I get the gist."

Yoji picked up the phone and started listening to the messages. "Well, shit. Aya definitely got a live one. He might even be flexible enough to do some of the things this guy is talking about."

"You're saying that Aya has a secret admirer?" Ken asked. "You're sure it's for Aya?"

Why wouldn't it be? Not that Aya cared.

"Five messages of it so far, and they all mention him by name." But Yoji's smirk started to give way to a more worried look. "This guy's kind of creepy. Aya, you might want to hear this."

"Why?"

"Because if this isn't a prank, you might want to watch your back."

What a pain in the ass. "I'm not listening to 20 messages of that."

"He's says he'll leave a gift here tomorrow."

"He knows where we are?" Ken asked.

"If we don't leave tonight, we'll find out tomorrow."

"Maybe Kritiker should be told about this," Omi said.

They would go on all night at this rate, so Aya had to intervene. "As the supposed object as this man's devotion, I say we stay here, set up a night watch, and see if he really does know where we are. If his gift doesn't show, we're fine and Kritiker doesn't need to be told."

"And if it does arrive?" Ken asked.

"We find him and kill him."

"Very funny."

"It might come to that."

In the morning, a plain white chest sat in front of the door. How someone had left it without alerting them, none of them knew. "It might not be," Yoji said.

"Or it might be," Aya answered. "We didn't hear or see anyone leave it..."

"Let's bring it inside and open it!" Ken said as he lifted it. "Damn, this is heavy. What could be in here?"

"A severed head?" Yoji replied.

"That's not funny," Omi said.

Ken hefted it onto the counter, then unlatched the lid. "Okay, it's full of ice."

"It really is for Aya," Yoji said.

Refusing to dignify that with a response, Aya took a pair of plastic gloves from under the sink, put them on, and reached into the ice. As soon as his hands found an object, he pulled it out.

"Oh, shit," Ken said, while Omi said, "We're calling Kritiker, and we're moving away. I'm calling now."

"I was joking about the head," Yoji said softly.

It wasn't a head. Disgusted yet fascinated, Aya examined the heart in its clear plastic bag carefully. It had a note, in a separate small plastic bag, pinned to it. Aya read aloud, "Don't worry. It's not your sister's."

His own heart had stopped for an agonizing moment before it resumed beating at an accelerated pace. Aya yanked the phone from Omi's hand and said into it, "Is this Manx?"

"Yes. Abyssinian--"

"Is my sister all right?"

"The last we heard, yes. Someone is checking right now."

He couldn't hear anything over the labored sound of his breathing and the panicked beat of his own heart. The gift heart he'd dropped back into its chest.

"She's fine," Manx said. "We'll be increasing the security detail on her. Drive to Okinawa. More instructions and new assignments will await you there."

Even now, Kritiker found ways to avoid waste. It reassured and angered him all at once. "Yes."

"We'll take the evidence into custody when we next meet."

He hadn't even thought of whose heart it might be if it didn't belong to his sister. "Yes."

"We'll see you there." She disconnected.

"We're going to Okinawa," Aya told the rest of Weiß, who looked at him expectantly from the ring they'd formed around him.

"I'll be tracing any calls that come into the phone," Omi said.

"A boring life would be really good right about now," Yoji said.

Aya sat down hard and tried to find some calm. Numbness. Anything. He had the vague idea that someone was trying to talk to him, but he couldn't quite hear it.

They refused to let him drive. Under the circumstances, he couldn't blame them, but the idle time left him too much opportunity to think. Not that he could dignify what he was doing now by calling it "thinking." The same few, wild thoughts kept flashing through his brain, and he still hadn't recovered from the moment of horror and terror when he'd thought that he held his sister's heart in his hands.

This "admirer" knew him. It might follow that he knew his admirer as well.

Every member of Weiß avoided looking at the chest sitting on the counter.

When disgustingly peppy music played, they all stared at the cell phone as it might bite them. Omi went over to his equipment and gave Aya the nod to pick it up. Why couldn't this asshole have fixated on one of the others? Yoji invited it.

Aya picked up the phone. "Hello. Kitten in the House floral arrangements."

"Did you get my gift?" Even muffled, the voice sounded familiar.

"Yes." Aya noticed Omi making odd hand gestures.... Omi wanted him to talk more, to keep the psycho on longer so they could better trace him. What could he possibly say to this person? "I got your gift. It wasn't in my size."

Ken made a choking noise, while Yoji laughed and said, "Great. He'll dismember you after he rapes you and before he kills you."

"It wasn't to my taste," Aya continued.

"Upset? I told you it wasn't your sister's. It would be perverse of me to woo you by giving you her heart."

"Since you sent me a human heart, I thought it best not to underestimate your perversity."

"You're funnier than I thought. I'll see you soon." The admirer ended the connection.

"Please tell me you got him," Aya said to Omi.

"I didn't. Something odd was happening with the signal...." Omi sat up straighter. "This guy is a professional. Or he has someone professional helping him with this."

"He said that he'll see me soon."

"Not unless he's in Okinawa," Ken said, then asked, "Is he in Okinawa?"

"He knows me," Aya said, "so maybe I know him. His voice sounds familiar even with the attempts to disguise it. Which of our enemies would do this? Not many of them are still alive."

"Schwarz maybe," Omi answered. "We never found any of their bodies after Eszett's building sank into the ocean, and we survived that. It's also their standard operating procedure to play with their enemies' heads."

They'd had some plans of their own for his sister. At least she had her own security now, not that she knew it.

He'd wanted a normal life for her....

He thought about Schwarz, their voices and killing styles, and said, "It's Farfarello. He might be taking some assistance from Schuldig, but I'm sure it's him. I recognize his voice now." It had to be the both of them together, since Farfarello didn't attack this subtly.

"To have Farfarello wanting you... that is so creepy," Ken said.

"He doesn't want me. He's fucking with my head." And he would die for this. Now Aya almost hoped to see Schwarz in Okinawa.

"I have our directions," Omi said as he put the phone done. "Manx will pick up the chest when we arrive there."

"It's time for you to go to hell," Aya said as he pulled his katana free of the last man in the room. As sick as it might be, he felt a transitory peace as he killed, a calm, clear emptiness. It lingered for a few moments after as well, until he remembered that it was a terrible thing to be good at this and a worse thing to enjoy it.

Calm. Quiet. Nothing.... Then he once again heard the hum of computers and a slow dripping sound that could be beads of blood falling from his katana or white coat.

He wiped his katana clean and sheathed it, then stood at the door to listen for other possible opponents. Hearing no one, he opened the door and saw a body bleeding into the carpet. He hadn't made this victim. He ducked back inside the room and locked the door as he heard a familiar voice say, "I got bored of waiting. Aren't you glad I spared you the trouble of killing him?"

Of course, he couldn't be lucky enough to be cornered in a room that had windows. The ventilation shaft was much too small for him. Thus, he had to go through the door.

Into his headset he said, "My admirer is here. I'm going to try to get past him."

"Abyssinian, wait for at least one of us to arrive," Omi said back.

Farfarello knocked on the door and yelled, "No need to be shy."

Being locked in a room with the dead made too perfect a metaphor for the past few miserable years of his life. "I'm doing this. Abyssinian out." He turned off his earpiece to avoid hearing Omi's protests.

Aya unsheathed his katana and returned to the door to listen and wait. When he listened hard enough, he could just make out the sound of Farfarello shifting. Aya unlocked the door and slammed it open in a rush, knocking his opponent away. For a moment he considered running, but Farfarello would follow. If they didn't settle this now, it would still have to be settled later. There would be more calls, fights, gifts.... He attacked, and Farfarello parried.

"I'm glad you're ready to play," Farfarello said.

"I'm ready to kill."

"You always are. It's one of the reasons I want you."

Incensed, Aya fought harder, but over the clang of steel he still had to listen to Farfarello talk. "I had an epiphany when Crawford spoke of exterminating Weiß, because I realized that I would miss you."

"You realize that you're revealing to me that Schwarz is alive and planning our deaths," Aya answered.

"Why not?" Farfarello grinned. "It won't be much challenge to kill you kittens when we want to. But you're special. I'd rather let you live. You suffer so beautifully. Schuldig agrees, and Crawford thinks it's amusing, and Nagi doesn't care at all."

"I'm not some pet you can buy."

"Buy? No, we're wooing you. I could have just torn out someone's heart to give to you, but instead I took a donor heart from a hospital. A dead man's heart, freely surrendered to be given to another person. It has more meaning."

As much as Aya sometimes feared for his sanity, at least he didn't sound that crazy himself. But it worried him that he understood what Farfarello meant.

They fought. After days of frustration and jumping at shadows, Aya enjoyed having something solid he could express his anger on. Even better, that solid thing was the author of his recent troubles. They spun and clashed and struck. Farfarello reeled when Aya clouted him across the head with the flat of his katana but then unexpectedly surged forward and pinned Aya to the wall, pressing points on Aya's wrist until he dropped his katana.

Aya struggled hard, writhing, but Farfarello had melted to him and would not move, which stopped him from moving much as well. At best, Aya could shake his head a little. The lunatic pressed his hot lips against the skin bared by the pulled zipper on Aya's shirt. His old mission outfit had covered everything and would have spared him this. He continued to jolt around until he realized that it was useless, Farfarello wasn't moving or attacking, and it could only excite his captor, who was hard and poking into his hip.

So he stilled and waited, his thoughts whirling and heart pounding. Yet Farfarello still did nothing, simply stood pressed against him, breathing, smelling of metal and blood, the scents of Aya's night life. White hair tickled Aya's chin and the wet heat at his collarbone distracted him, yet he started to feel calmer. While simply standing, Farfarello's heart-rate and breathing slowed, and so did Aya's, eventually matching his. It was quiet here, weirdly restful. Farfarello's heat and silence wrapped around him like a blanket.

Farfarello started to hum contentedly against Aya's skin, which sent surprising streaks of desire through him. Yet it was a languid desire....

"Aya!" Ken shouted from down the hallway.

And the respite ended. Farfarello jerked away from him and saluted with his sword. "It's a shame the rest of the litter arrived. Good night. I'll have to make this look good...."

Aya found himself sitting on the floor with his head reeling, uncertain of how he'd come to be there. "Balinese, get him out of here!" Omi shouted.

Aya answered, "I'm--"

--being picked up by Yoji and slung over Yoji's shoulder. How embarrassing. It didn't do good things for his spinning head either, but he said nothing, working too hard at keeping his stomach from flying out his throat.

Omi fussed over him in the car but couldn't find any injuries aside from the clout to the head and a few minor bruises. "What did he do to you?"

"Fought me," Aya replied. "Toyed with me, really. He told me that he used a donor heart because it meant something different."

"Crazy," Ken murmured.

"He says that Schwarz plans to kill us."

"Like that's anything new," Yoji answered.

"Do you think Schwarz's work helped bring us here?" Omi asked.

"That they did something here, then Farfarello's gift forced us to move and Kritiker sent us where the action was?" Aya asked back. "Perhaps." Unsettling, to think that they might have been so manipulated.

At a red light, Yoji looked back at Aya through the rearview mirror. Uncomfortable, Aya zipped his shirt up more when Yoji turned his attention back to the road. He didn't want to be too conspicuously uncomfortable.

Confused by the events of the evening and tired, Aya closed his eyes, drifting, and tried not to think of the calm peace and warm desire he'd felt. Of all the people to find calm with.... But he should be accustomed to his inappropriate reactions by now. After all, he enjoyed killing and sometimes resented his sister.

"Aya, wake up! You might have a concussion," Omi said.

Wonderful. Someone would have to wake him at intervals tonight.

After taking a shower, he sat near the kitchen counter, staring at the cell phone. "Do you think he'll call tonight?" Omi asked.

"Yeah."

But Farfarello didn't. A few times Yoji told Aya to give it a rest already and go to bed, while Aya answered that being woken at intervals in bed wouldn't be any more conducive to getting rest. At 4 a.m., Aya abandoned the kitchen and took the phone into his bunk with him. Within a few minutes after he pulled the covers up, it vibrated against his hand.

"Hello?" he murmured.

"I had a good time tonight." Farfarello made it sound like a date. "Did you?"

Aya wanted to say no. He could, easily. Yet he didn't know for sure if that were true. Maybe his fatigue made him admit softly, "I liked the quiet."

Farfarello did that caressing hum again that had felt so unexpectedly good against Aya's skin. "Good." Then he ended the call.

Over the next week, Aya didn't receive any gifts or calls, and no one from Schwarz visited him. Farfarello was mercurial and insane, so he might have lost interest. Waiting for something that might not come left Aya feeling ragged.

It didn't help that Yoji, Omi, and Ken hadn't given up on Schwarz trying something on Aya and had decided to never leave him alone just in case. Never. Everywhere he went, a member of Weiß went with him. Another person might find their concern touching, but he was too busy fighting down the urge to kill them so he could get some peace. How the hell could they all talk so much? If his control broke, perhaps he could blame the murder on Schwarz.

His guardians all slept now, so he took advantage of the opportunity to slip outside to be alone. The lot they'd parked and hooked up in was on the outskirts of the city, quiet in the early hours of the morning. The cold made his breath steam, and he had to push his hands deeper into the pockets of the coat he'd put on over his pajamas. He might have been better off putting his boots on instead of slippers. Still, he found the chill invigorating too.

"Your littermates are very protective," Farfarello said, walking forward.

Of course. "Have you been outside the trailer every night, or did Crawford foresee this for you?"

The moonlight painted him in blue and made his white hair seem to glow. "Crawford has uses. I'm not devoted enough to sit outside your trailer every night."

Thankfully. "Schwarz isn't ready to kill us yet?"

"Crawford believes in a proper time for everything. Me, I believe that it's always the right time to kill." He smiled. "I'm surprised that you haven't killed Weiß yet. I know you like your quiet."

"Was that the plan behind the wooing, to make me kill Weiß for you?"

"You are funny. I didn't expect that."

"No one does." Were they standing here having a conversation?

Belatedly, Aya realized that Farfarello had him nearly backed up against the trailer. But he could still flee... or fight.

Or let this happen, which seemed to be what he was doing since he hadn't moved away and Farfarello was now pressed up against him. It put disturbing feelings in his stomach. And other parts of his body.

"I missed you." Farfarello said, breathing hotly near his ear and tugging at the fastenings of his coat. "Weiß was always around, and Weiß has nothing to do with this."

"I have nothing to do with this."

"Usually. Why don't you? Do you believe that sex takes a fighter's edge off?

"Yes." If he had his edge, he would be fighting this now instead of trying not to groan at the way Farfarello's thigh was between his legs and rubbing at parts of him that enjoyed the friction.

"And?"

"'And'?"

"There's more. I can tell." Farfarello rubbed their bodies together and did gentle thrusting motions that made the chill metal wall of the trailer rub against Aya's back. Aya felt it even through his coat. Farfarello's face and hands were cold, but heat blossomed elsewhere, at the core of them, where they met chest to chest, groin to groin. Being so cold in some places and hot in others somehow sharpened all the sensations Aya felt.

"I won't tell you." Creatures like them didn't deserve love or release. If Aya ever let everything inside him loose, he pitied anyone nearby.

"Hmm." Then he put one hand at the back of Aya's head and tilted it down to kiss him, creating another spot of heat.

This was sex they were having, outside, in public, in the cold, with Aya's teammates sleeping on the other side of the wall. And, hard and aching and needy as he was, Aya currently didn't give a damn about anything but the unusual pleasure he felt.

That refusal to give a damn made him worry and start giving a damn. "This is Schuldig at work," he gasped.

"No, silly kitten. Just me."

"No... I mean... telepathically making me--"

"It doesn't feel good?" Farfarello murmured, then sucked at a spot on Aya's neck that made him tremble.

"It... does, but--"

"No telepathy. The pleasure is the only magic here. God gave this to us and made it a sin because He's an evil bastard. Doing this with someone I care for but don't want to make babies with annoys Him and makes me happy. But being happy doesn't make you happy, which is very sad. Here comes the rush."

"What?"

Somehow the rubbing and rocking together became... more, and Farfarello did things with his cool hands and hot mouth, and Aya lost track of it all in how good it felt and finally came while making noises that he would no doubt find embarrassing later. It would also embarrass him later that he'd clutched at Farfarello, but now it seemed like the only logical thing to do.

For a while afterward he simply felt warm and good and couldn't think at all, but then he started to shiver even despite the heat the body still pressed to his radiated. Farfarello hummed again and gently stroked his face with callused fingers.

Aya said, "This changes--" Nothing. Everything.

Farfarello didn't answer, just continued stroking his face and remained pressed against him. For now, they might be the only two people left in the world. Aya surrendered to it and once again felt that odd and much wanted peace as he stopped thinking and just was.

That lasted until Farfarello started to move, murmuring, "I have to go."

And at that moment Aya started to feel tired, sticky, uncomfortable, and worried. "What was that?" he asked.

"The quiet stillness? Straitjacket wisdom. When you can't move or go anywhere, you deal with it or perish. I started to like it. I'll see you again." Farfarello kissed his nose, then left at a run.

Aya felt colder without him there, but that only made sense. He closed his coat and walked inside, very carefully not thinking about anything that had happened.

"Nice night, isn't it?" Yoji asked.

Aya nearly jumped, but his voice remained steady. "I suppose."

How much did Yoji know or guess? Of all of them, surely he would be the one most likely to recognize the smell of sex. In the darkness, only the glowing end of his cigarette could be seen, providing no clues to Yoji's thinking. Such as it was.

"You remember what he is, right? One of the bastards who kidnapped your sister. He killed Omi's half-sister. He even told you that his team is planning to kill us."

So Yoji knew something. Had he watched?

"I know." Aya knew that Yoji spoke truth, but being lectured ticked him off.

"You know that one of them is a telepath who loves to fuck with people's heads."

"I know."

"Do you want this?"

Aya wanted to shower and go to bed. He wanted to know what Yoji thought "this" was. How could he agree or disagree if he didn't know the terms? Yoji might not even be expecting him to answer.

So he would answer, and with the truth. "I don't know what I want."

The tip of Yoji's cigarette flared. "You--"

"I used to know. It used to be simple. But, against all hope, I got it--she woke up--and now I don't have anything new to take its place. I'm marking time, Yoji, looking for a reason to continue."

"Aya--"

It gave Aya such sweet pleasure to hear the shock in Yoji's voice. "Even my name is obsolete."

Unfortunately, Yoji recovered as Aya started to walk past him to the shower. "Do you think you're the only one in pain? The only one who doesn't know what he's doing?"

"No. But I don't pretend to understand your pain. I can't understand it. Give me the same respect."

Yoji grabbed his wrist and pulled him in closer. "What is this thing you have with him? Are you trying to punish yourself? Are you that desperate for sex?"

"Are you offering, Yoji? Did you watch? Did I sound like I was punishing myself? Did you enjoy the show?" Aya found it poisonously sweet for once to tell someone what he thought.

Weiß thought they wanted to know him. Surely it wouldn't take much to disabuse them of that insane notion.

"If I'd known that all someone had to do to get a piece of you is make obscene phone calls and send you fucking body parts--"

"What, Yoji? Finish that."

"You don't deal very well with people being concerned for you."

That was emphatically not what Yoji had originally started to say, but Aya let it go. "'Concern' always seems to be about making me do something I don't want to do or stop doing something I want to do." Like, take your sister off the machines. Stop hunting Takatori. Get on with your life. Make yourself over into something completely different so people will like you.

"I think this is the most personal information I've ever gotten out of you."

"I'm happy for you." Yoji was idly stroking Aya's wrist, and in Aya's sensitized state it felt too good. Yanking it away, Aya said, "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"You think that it's okay for you to do this because he kills too and you think you can't hurt him."

"Honestly, Yoji? I wasn't thinking at all." And it had felt so good to stop thinking.

Maybe Yoji could see that response in him, even in the dark, because Yoji made a surprised sound. They stood too close, so close that Aya could feel Yoji's body heat and almost taste the blaze of his cigarette. This closeness Yoji kept trying to press on him could not be allowed to recur.

Aya said, "What just happened outside was not a display for you nor an invitation to you. It was what it was."

"Not that you know what that is yet."

Aya snarled.

"Guys?" Omi asked from his bunk, sounding half-asleep. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing, Omi," Yoji answered. "We're going to bed soon."

"Okay."

"I didn't see anything," Yoji said to Aya softly.

"But you listened?" Aya answered as softly. Yoji's twitch said everything. It left Aya disgusted.

Simply disgusted. He didn't have an exhibitionist streak.

"I'll tell the others that Schwarz is messing with your head."

"Thus signing my death warrant if Kritiker finds out."

The recent kill orders on Ken and Omi "from Kritiker" had been fake, but Weiß didn't trust the true Kritiker much more than that.

"No," Yoji said. "I won't do that."

He desperately needed to get clean, but Yoji wanted to prevent him. "I need a shower--" and a change of clothing, "--and sleep. You can figure out what you're doing whether I'm here or not." He pushed past Yoji.

"I worry about you, Aya."

"I never asked you to." As he locked himself into the trailer's tiny "bath" room, he hoped that Yoji hadn't noticed the sudden thickness in his voice.

Yoji annoyed and moved him, while he left Yoji confused and unsatisfied. Aside from the big issues they'd discussed, it had been a typical conversation for them.