Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Zweiter Chancen ❯ Kidnap ( Chapter 13 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

*****13*****


The Weiss household is as silent as it has ever been, especially this past week. Emery...Schuldrich...whoever he is now, is restlessly asleep, Ran is in watching over him, Ken is cleaning up the kitchen after supper, and Omi and Youji are settled uncomfortably in the living room. It hasn’t been that long since the German’s transformation, but enough for the others to choke down a meal and spend far too much time worrying.

“What do you think’s gonna happen, Youji-kun?” Omi asks softly, curling his legs up into his chest. He is sitting sideways on the couch to get a clear view of the room their slumbering friend is in.

Sitting on the other end of the couch, Youji slouches with a sigh. “I don’t know, Omi. Maybe...it was all just a fluke back there, and when he wakes up he’ll be Schuldrich. Maybe he won’t be. There’s nothing we can do but wait.”

“I hope it wasn’t a fluke. I liked having Emery around.”

“So did I. So did everyone. Even the Ice Princess.” Youji grins, if somewhat lopsided. “Schuldrich, on the other hand, I wouldn’t want around. But...who he chooses to be...isn’t up to us, no matter how much we want him to stay.”

What more can be said? A choice. A choice that may or may not have already been made. One thing is certain: there is only one person whose choice it is to make.

CRASH. The small silence that had drifted in once more is shattered. Something that sounded like glass breaking down the hall erupts, and Omi and Youji both jump in their seats.

“What the hell...?” Youji mutters, turning around to stare down the darkened hallway.

From the pair’s positions, they can make out almost every single door. There is Omi’s room, Youji’s, and the bathroom on one side, with Ken’s and Ran’s on the other. The guest room Emery had used is at the very end of the hall, and is the most difficult to see.

Darkness or no darkness, however, both boys are certain the sound came from there.

“That...that came from Emery’s room, ne?” Omi whispers. Apparently the other two members of Weiss have brushed off the noise as nothing, or didn’t hear it at all, because neither one has come out of their respective rooms to investigate. “Do you think Aya-kun went in there to get something?”

“Omi, your eyes have been glued to Ran’s room for twenty minutes.” the taller blonde chides. “What, you think he teleported himself out of there, or snuck past you in that split second you finally allowed yourself to blink? I don’t think so.”

Youji is nearly cut off as slightly different noises begin coming from the room now. It’s almost as if someone broke in through the window, discovered the room was empty, and is now thrashing about in a mad fury because he came up empty handed.

Trembling a little, despite the expertise he has in dealing with tense situations, Omi slips off the couch, moving around it to inch towards the hallway, step by step. Before entering completely, he turns back, not vocally saying to Youji, ‘get your ass over here,’ but certainly saying it with his round, blue eyes.

“What do you think it is...?” Omi whispers, no longer taking point, but clinging to Youji’s back as he and his companion slink towards the far door.

It isn’t so much that Omi is afraid, but that he is unarmed. Youji, on the other hand, always has his weapon, as long as he has the time.

“Whatever it is...” Youji whispers back, releasing a handful of wire from his watch. “...it picked the wrong house.”

The room is reached, and both boys take in a deep breath for support and courage. Boldly, Youji turns the handle and throws the door open, poised for attack like a cat on the prowl. The second he does this, curiously enough, the strange noises cease, and the room appears to be empty.

“You think we were just hearing things...?” Youji breathes, eyeing the inside of the room critically.

Still clinging to Youji’s side, Omi cautiously peers around his friend’s back. “We couldn’t have both imagined it. Maybe...maybe the shop is haunted!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve lived here for years.”

Continuing to speak in hushed voices as they step slowly through the door and into their friend’s recently occupied room, they look from side to side, as well as in front of them. Naturally, the last place they think to look...is behind them.

“I don’t know what to tell ya, bishounen.” Youji shrugs, lowering his guard. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s here.”

A low laugh filters in from behind after that, and both members of Weiss freeze in place, feeling the hairs on the back of their necks instantly stand on end. “Looks...” this unwelcome voice hisses from behind the door they had only moments before passed through. “...can be deceiving.”

Youji whips around, shielding Omi behind him. He knows that voice. He knows exactly who he is about to face.

“Farfarello...” Omi breathes, wishing more than anything right now that he had his darts or his crossbow. Preferably both.

“I’ve come for the stolen lamb.” Farfie speaks, pushing the door closed again as he steps out from behind it. His knife gleams dangerously in the dim lighting. “I’ll either kill the lamb or leave with the Devil, but either way, going through *you* is not a problem.”

Releasing a howl, Farfarello suddenly rushes forward, and Omi darts to the side as the Irishman slams into Youji, sending them both to the ground. In this position, Youji is unable to do much of anything with his wire, and Omi realizes that his friend is in very real danger.

Quicker than most eyes could catch, Farfarello pulls his knife back, preparing to drive it down, but before he can, he is toppled over as a small, but affective, figure attacks him from the side.

Youji releases the breath he had been holding and rolls over to see that Omi is struggling for control of Farfarello’s knife. Not surprisingly, Omi isn’t winning.

“Get off of him, you freak!” the tall blonde screams, rushing over to pull Farfarello away just in the nick of time.

These newly paired enemies continue to struggle, more fairly matched now, as Omi breathlessly gets to his feet. Darting his eyes about the room, Omi searches wildly for some way to offer his teammate help, or at least for a way to leave the room and run to get some himself.

Luckily, Ran and Ken have finally come to their senses.

“Holy shit, it’s Farfarello!” Ken cries, as both he and the furious red-head burst through the door. Both have their weapons, and both are a very sweet sight for sore eyes.

“Tasukete, minna! He’s here for Emery!” Omi shouts, sprinting for the door.

Ran and Ken circle the dueling pair, leaving Omi enough room to escape and run for his neglected weapons. Strength in numbers aside, this is not an easy fight. Farfarello feels no pain - not the sting of wires, the scrape of claws, or the cuts of a katana. He doesn’t even feel the puncture of darts when Omi returns to join the fray. He just keeps on coming, displaying an intensity none of them knew he possessed. Even Ken is taken aback, and he has paired off against the albino many times in the past.

This is a doomed battle destined to fail.

SLAM. Omi is tossed by the madman like a ragdoll into the wall, and the young blonde crumbles to the ground, unconscious. No sooner does Farfarello rid himself of one member of Weiss, however, when another takes his place.

Ken leaps through the air, intent on driving his claws straight through the Irishman’s back, but before he even comes close to descending, Farf whirls around to punch Ken ruthlessly in the stomach. It is the brunette’s turn to crumble now, completely winded and writhing in pain on the floor.

This is not turning out in favor for the white ones at all.

Seeing the inevitable, Youji makes a break for it, praying Omi awakes, Ken gets back to his feet, and that Ran can hold the Irishman off long enough. He has a new plan. They need help, and there is only one person who can give it.

“Wake up, Emery!” Youji pleads, leaning over the slumbering red-head anxiously.

He doesn’t stir.

“Come on, Em, wake up!” Youji tries again, kneeling beside the bed, and reaching out his arms to shake the young man’s shoulders. “He’s too much for us. Too focused. We need your help.”

Still, the German merely grimaces, groaning in his sleep, but not awaking.

“Damnit, Emery, help us!!”

“His name...is Schuldrich.”

Youji tenses, wishing he didn’t have to turn around, wishing that the person he knows is behind him wasn’t there at all. When Youji does turn, the sight he sees is exactly what he knew it would be.

Farfarello.

“He’s come back from the light, I see.” the albino comments calmly. Too calmly. “I knew he would come back. I knew he wouldn’t abandon me forever.”

“Shut up!” Youji cries, guarding the red-head possessively. “You can’t have him! He doesn’t belong to Schwartz anymore!”

Farfie tilts his head, sauntering slowly into the room. “He doesn’t have to belong to us. He is one of us. He *is* Schwartz.”

“Like hell!” Youji spits back. “He’s Emery. Emery! And I won’t let you take him.”

“You think you can protect him? All on your own? Your friends are out of commission at the moment, and you are no match for me. How do you plan on stopping something you can’t even fight?”

“I’ve had enough of your bullshit, you crazy fuck! Get the hell out of my house!!” the blonde seethes, standing from his crouched position, and pulling his wires taut.

In reply to this obvious challenge, Farfarello laughs. Such a sound is more haunting than any scream or howl. It is the sound of a soulless echo, bouncing back into Youji’s face to strike him down to the ground.

“Stop laughing!”

Farfarello laughs on.

“Stop it! I won’t let you win, you hear me?! I won’t let you have him!”

Farfarello stops. “And just how are you going to stop me...if you’re dead...?”

Faster than Youji can react, Farfarello sprints forward, and drives his knife deep into the taller man’s tender side. Youji cries out, his wire slipping from his fingers as he absently clutches at Farfie’s shirt, attempting to keep himself steady.

Shivering uncontrollably, Youji blinks past the pain, turning his head to look his attacker in the eye. Farfarello is smiling. Grinning. And with a sickening jerk, he rips the knife free again.

For a moment, Youji remains on his feet, eyes wide, still clinging to Farfarello. Casting a pitiful glance at the still sleeping German, he then clenches his eyes shut from the intense pain, and whispers. “God...no...”

Curiously, Farfie eyes Youji’s contorted form as it sinks to the floor. “God...?” he repeats. “God...has nothing to do with this.”

Moving closer to the bed, Farfarello now turns his attention on the prize. The red-head appears to be having a very vivid and haunting dream - a nightmare - because his face is twisted, and every so often he releases a soft moan into the air.

“Everything will be as it should be now...” Farfarello speaks softly, leaning over his teammate to breathe in the German’s lingering scent. “...because you’re coming home with me.”

“...no...” Youji gasps from the harsh comfort of the floor, barely conscious.

“Yes.” Farfie hisses, slipping his knife into his pocket, and bending lower to touch the side of the red-head’s pale face. “You don’t belong here...you belong with me...with Schwartz...and all the victims we revel in destroying...together...”

Quite content with himself, Farfie wraps his arms around the dreaming young man, and lifts him from the bed to be draped over his shoulder. This paints a rather interesting picture, actually, like a caveman carrying off his prospective mate. Only this is under highly different circumstances and intentions.

With one last look down at the fallen Kudo Youji, Farfarello turns to the window, his prize safely in possession.

“Emery!” shouts a sudden voice from close by, halting the Irishman’s escape.

Fujimiya Ran is poised breathlessly in the doorway, nursing an injured arm and remnants of forced slumber.

“Too late, Abyssinian.” Farfarello sneers, rearing back his arm in anticipation for breaking the window. “Whatever you think he is, you’ve lost it. He was never really with you, anyway. You held a shadow. I hold what lurks within them. I hold what he has always been, and that is something you can never posses.”

CRASH. Farfarello - and his prey - are gone.

Dashing across the room, Ran peers madly out into the night, searching for signs of what has just slipped through his fingers.

Nothing. They are long gone, and there is no way to track them. Despite this, Ran resists the urge to leap from the window himself and make chase. What stops him, is the knowledge that he has two unconscious friends in one room, one friend with a near-fatal wound in this one, and his own injuries that desperately need to heal.

They have lost. Weiss has lost to a single man, and with it they have lost their last hope - and belief - in second chances.