Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Zweiter Chancen ❯ Be careful what you wish for... ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Crimson 
Schu uses a spell, but things aren't what they seem. Who is this stranger at Weiss' door?
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 10.12.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 629 | Status: Completed
Schu uses a spell, but things aren't what they seem. Who is this stranger at Weiss' door?
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 10.12.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 629 | Status: Completed
Zweiter Chancen
*****1*****
Watching. Waiting. Devouring peace of mind like lumps of sugar in Crawford's morning coffee. No sunshine today; it wouldn't dare. The scent of rain replaces it, less than an hour away, saturating the air with its own possibility. The weight of it is humid enough to be scooped out with a spoon, should someone entertain the idea.
How seldom people think worthwhile thoughts.
Leaning nonchalantly against the brick of an alleyway, Schuldrich peers out at the ignorant innocents, sneering at every wayward smile and happy optimism. What do any of them have to be happy about? Life isn't fair. Like isn't just. Life sucks. A load of shit with no diamonds buried beneath the crap. But hey, if ya gotta be stuck on Earth - the refuse of the universe - you might as well enjoy yourself.
(Keep running your mazes, little vermin, with all those pretty little thoughts, 'cause party-time in SchuSchu's head is about to go bye-bye. This free ride ends today.)
A perfectly manicured hand reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. Smugly, a large smirk spreads across his face as he opens it, reading silently over the neatly scrawled words.
He has secretly been working on a spell for the past two months, right under Bradley's nose, and it is finally finished. Requiring a well-timed mental block to prevent premonitions of his actions from entering the American's mind, Schu has had his hands metaphysically full for quite some time. But if all goes accordingly, it will prove to be well worth it.
A dampening field, a sense of control, a moment of peace and quiet. Diligent research and patience have created all these ideals for him. His long-awaited way out. Or, to put it accurately, his chance at making it much more difficult for others to get in.
(Just a handful of words...and no more sleepless nights. No more pounding headaches or massive break downs. No more forgetting which thoughts are mine...and which belong...to someone else...)
The corners of his mouth twitch, failing to hold that common grin, and the dull sheen over his eyes almost makes one think he isn't as content as his smiling facade leads you to believe.
Back into the depths of the alley where no one can hear you scream, let alone speak the incantation of a spell, Schuldrich holds the paper up to the meager light, and begins chanting the words in a low, whispering voice.
Two months of waiting, too many years to count of hoping - he sees no point in wasting time now.
If Brad finds out, he'll be incensed beyond reason, but that's just a risk the brave young German is willing to face. This may not be the most thought-out decision he has ever made, it may not be the safest or the smartest, but it is definitely the most daring, and one has to respect a man with the balls to screw over Fate the way Fate screws over everyone else.
Unless one remembers what usually happens to those who try.
Schuldrich is thrown off balance as the spell finishes, knocked right on his ass in the middle of the damp and narrow alleyway. Something isn't right. Suddenly the world is spinning faster and faster around him, like a morbid carrousel, and he can't think straight or find his bearings in any direction.
The spell is not what it should be. But before becoming completely overwhelmed by his unbalance, Schu takes small solace in the quiet, and would have found it a great relief if he hadn't realized just how quiet it actually is.
He can still hear the cars going by out in the street, hear the true voices of people talking and yelling and laughing, but as for the voices in his head, they aren't merely softer, as he hoped they would be. They aren't there.
(Shit...what the hell did I do...?)
An odd constriction envelopes him, and without any answer or understanding, Schuldrich's vision deserts him as the universe dims, and he lays unconscious on the concrete, leaving only the veil of shadow to guard him.
*****
"Youji-kun, you were supposed to prune the roses today!" calls out an exasperated Tsukiyono Omi, standing with small hands planted adorably on his hips.
The popular flower shop, "Koneko no Sumu Ie," is not only known for its impressive arrangements, but for its bishounen employees. However, beauty is not a part of work ethic, and one of the pretty boys in question has a tendency to skirt his responsibilities a little bit more than the others. Especially, when he is conveniently distracted.
"Can't you stop flirting for two seconds to do your job!?" Omi rants on, glaring at his friend - the smooth-talking Kudo Youji - as the tall young man casually leans against the front counter, conversing with a ravishing red-head. "Our best selling flowers are going to choke themselves to death if you keep avoiding your duties like this!"
"Chotto matte, Omi-kun." Youji replies in a sing-song voice, clearly ignoring the protests being flung his direction. "I can't let this lovely creature leave without getting a phone number, ne?"
Blushing shamelessly, the young woman eventually produces a business card with her home number on the back, explaining to her pursuer that he can give her a call whenever he wants. Having received what he'd been waiting for, Youji suavely sees her to the door, though not without succeeding in fraying Omi's already frazzled nerves.
It is nearly closing time now, just before supper, and only after the chores are done can they lock the place up for the night. Aware of this, but perfectly content to stay a few extra minutes now that he has a future date in check, Youji turns to the task of the overgrown roses, grinning at little Omi the entire time.
"You are so hopeless, Youji-kun. Just because *you're* not in a rush to close up doesn't mean *I* feel like staying here all night."
Looking up in mock guilt, Youji dramatically clutches a hand to his chest. "Gomen ne, bishounen. Am I keeping you from some steamy cyber date, or were you just planning on handling the job yourself tonight?"
Omi's bright blue eyes widen in horror, his mouth hanging open as if to protest such an offensive idea, though he can't seem to form the words. Diving back into the task at hand, Youji chuckles loudly at Omi's expense, but offers a playful wink for reprieve. It was only a joke, after all.
Amidst the tense silence that follows, footsteps begin to filter down from above, and soon the door leading to the apartment swings open. Hidaka Ken, sporting a differently styled apron than his friends' work clothes, peers out impatiently, folding his arms over his chest.
"You haven't closed up yet? What's taking so long?" he demands, focusing his gaze on the hunched figure still clipping at roses. "Aya and I are almost finished with dinner. Why do you always have to hold things up, Kudo? Hayaku, already!"
"Relax, I'm almost done. Don't get your panties in a twist, KenKen." Youji grins, standing back to admire his hurried but careful work on the budding blossoms. "Save that job for Aya, ne?"
"Nani!?!"
"Nothing."
Ken scowls darkly, arms still firmly folded over of his soiled, kitchen apron in obvious challenge to the remark. Setting the sheers on the counter, Youji doesn't seem to notice, moving swiftly to pull down the grating at the front and finally lock the shop up for the night.
Eyeing his friends with a half-smile he can't help succumbing to, Omi shrugs, slipping off his apron with a sympathetic nod to his brunette companion, who remains menacingly poised in the doorway leading upstairs.
Soon enough, almost everything is closed down, but just as Youji pulls on the shutters, a small, pale hand catches it a foot from meeting the ground, revealing a pair of feet on the other side. With the grating almost completely set in place, those feet are the only thing Youji's can see of this stranger, and they are not a pair he recognizes. Actually, the shoes look a few sizes too big for whomever it is, like some kid guilty of stealing daddy's slippers for the day.
"Gomen, little fella, but we're closed right now. Come back tomorrow." Youji instructs, holding the grating in place, though the intruder is struggling to lift it back up.
"Sumimasen...this can't wait till tomorrow." replies a very timid voice, desperately urgent, and sporting a strange accent amidst his fluid Japanese. It is definitely a young boy, a teenager no less, but what really grabs Youji's attention is the purr of that intriguing voice. It sounds so familiar. "Dozo...this is very important. I need you help."
Youji's peers back over his shoulder, silently asking for Ken and Omi to give their opinions. Both have moved forward now, curious as to who could be calling on them so late in the evening, and offer their friend supportive nods, indicating Youji might as well give in and see what the boy needs.
Obediently, he lifts the shutters up with a mighty lurch, throwing them back into place, and bringing the boys face to face with their unexpected guest.
"Arigato. This *is* 'Kitty in the House,' ne? I've been searching for hours." the boy smiles kindly, shivering slightly within the folds of his oversized jacket. Everything he has on is oversized, to be exact. The belt of his pants is tightened as far as it can go to keep them from falling off, his shirt is tucked in tight, most likely to his knees, and the coat humorously hangs off his shoulders, showing only the tips of his fingers to the naked eye. "I know you're closed, but I really need to talk to you. I think you might be able to help me figure out what's going on."
The stunned members of Weiss give no answer - they can't - staring voicelessly at this young boy, 16 if not younger, who has interrupted their night. It isn't shock over his oddly dressed appearance, but something else about the way he looks, causing their tongues to be tied.
He stands about Omi's height, thin and fair skinned, with long hair like the horizon at sunset hanging past his shoulders, and bright blue eyes sparkling in the dimming light of day. His nose is sharp, as are the rest of his youthful features, and suddenly, the edge of his voice reveals why it sounds like one they've heard before, at least now that they have seen the boy's face.
It's a German accent, with a somewhat nasal hitch, in a higher register than that of the person they remember this voice belonging to.
"Oh my God..." Youji whispers, and the others can only stare, mouths open wide at the figure appearing so young and unaware before them. "It's Schuldrich."
*****A/N*****
*evil cackle* Get where I'm heading with this? No, Schu-honey doesn't know who he is, but the rest you'll just have to see for yourself as the story goes. Evil of me? Maybe. But it is something new. A spell to cool down his telepathy took away more than he bargained for - years and memory, as well as all of his powers. It may or may not be permanant, but I'm not telling which.
Slight shounen ai is possible, and probable, but the rest of Schwartz will make little appearance, if any. I'm thinking this will be about eight parts or so, but the other chapters will be longer than this one.
FEEDBACK PLEASE! And remember, anything is possible. Ja!
*****1*****
Watching. Waiting. Devouring peace of mind like lumps of sugar in Crawford's morning coffee. No sunshine today; it wouldn't dare. The scent of rain replaces it, less than an hour away, saturating the air with its own possibility. The weight of it is humid enough to be scooped out with a spoon, should someone entertain the idea.
How seldom people think worthwhile thoughts.
Leaning nonchalantly against the brick of an alleyway, Schuldrich peers out at the ignorant innocents, sneering at every wayward smile and happy optimism. What do any of them have to be happy about? Life isn't fair. Like isn't just. Life sucks. A load of shit with no diamonds buried beneath the crap. But hey, if ya gotta be stuck on Earth - the refuse of the universe - you might as well enjoy yourself.
(Keep running your mazes, little vermin, with all those pretty little thoughts, 'cause party-time in SchuSchu's head is about to go bye-bye. This free ride ends today.)
A perfectly manicured hand reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. Smugly, a large smirk spreads across his face as he opens it, reading silently over the neatly scrawled words.
He has secretly been working on a spell for the past two months, right under Bradley's nose, and it is finally finished. Requiring a well-timed mental block to prevent premonitions of his actions from entering the American's mind, Schu has had his hands metaphysically full for quite some time. But if all goes accordingly, it will prove to be well worth it.
A dampening field, a sense of control, a moment of peace and quiet. Diligent research and patience have created all these ideals for him. His long-awaited way out. Or, to put it accurately, his chance at making it much more difficult for others to get in.
(Just a handful of words...and no more sleepless nights. No more pounding headaches or massive break downs. No more forgetting which thoughts are mine...and which belong...to someone else...)
The corners of his mouth twitch, failing to hold that common grin, and the dull sheen over his eyes almost makes one think he isn't as content as his smiling facade leads you to believe.
Back into the depths of the alley where no one can hear you scream, let alone speak the incantation of a spell, Schuldrich holds the paper up to the meager light, and begins chanting the words in a low, whispering voice.
Two months of waiting, too many years to count of hoping - he sees no point in wasting time now.
If Brad finds out, he'll be incensed beyond reason, but that's just a risk the brave young German is willing to face. This may not be the most thought-out decision he has ever made, it may not be the safest or the smartest, but it is definitely the most daring, and one has to respect a man with the balls to screw over Fate the way Fate screws over everyone else.
Unless one remembers what usually happens to those who try.
Schuldrich is thrown off balance as the spell finishes, knocked right on his ass in the middle of the damp and narrow alleyway. Something isn't right. Suddenly the world is spinning faster and faster around him, like a morbid carrousel, and he can't think straight or find his bearings in any direction.
The spell is not what it should be. But before becoming completely overwhelmed by his unbalance, Schu takes small solace in the quiet, and would have found it a great relief if he hadn't realized just how quiet it actually is.
He can still hear the cars going by out in the street, hear the true voices of people talking and yelling and laughing, but as for the voices in his head, they aren't merely softer, as he hoped they would be. They aren't there.
(Shit...what the hell did I do...?)
An odd constriction envelopes him, and without any answer or understanding, Schuldrich's vision deserts him as the universe dims, and he lays unconscious on the concrete, leaving only the veil of shadow to guard him.
*****
"Youji-kun, you were supposed to prune the roses today!" calls out an exasperated Tsukiyono Omi, standing with small hands planted adorably on his hips.
The popular flower shop, "Koneko no Sumu Ie," is not only known for its impressive arrangements, but for its bishounen employees. However, beauty is not a part of work ethic, and one of the pretty boys in question has a tendency to skirt his responsibilities a little bit more than the others. Especially, when he is conveniently distracted.
"Can't you stop flirting for two seconds to do your job!?" Omi rants on, glaring at his friend - the smooth-talking Kudo Youji - as the tall young man casually leans against the front counter, conversing with a ravishing red-head. "Our best selling flowers are going to choke themselves to death if you keep avoiding your duties like this!"
"Chotto matte, Omi-kun." Youji replies in a sing-song voice, clearly ignoring the protests being flung his direction. "I can't let this lovely creature leave without getting a phone number, ne?"
Blushing shamelessly, the young woman eventually produces a business card with her home number on the back, explaining to her pursuer that he can give her a call whenever he wants. Having received what he'd been waiting for, Youji suavely sees her to the door, though not without succeeding in fraying Omi's already frazzled nerves.
It is nearly closing time now, just before supper, and only after the chores are done can they lock the place up for the night. Aware of this, but perfectly content to stay a few extra minutes now that he has a future date in check, Youji turns to the task of the overgrown roses, grinning at little Omi the entire time.
"You are so hopeless, Youji-kun. Just because *you're* not in a rush to close up doesn't mean *I* feel like staying here all night."
Looking up in mock guilt, Youji dramatically clutches a hand to his chest. "Gomen ne, bishounen. Am I keeping you from some steamy cyber date, or were you just planning on handling the job yourself tonight?"
Omi's bright blue eyes widen in horror, his mouth hanging open as if to protest such an offensive idea, though he can't seem to form the words. Diving back into the task at hand, Youji chuckles loudly at Omi's expense, but offers a playful wink for reprieve. It was only a joke, after all.
Amidst the tense silence that follows, footsteps begin to filter down from above, and soon the door leading to the apartment swings open. Hidaka Ken, sporting a differently styled apron than his friends' work clothes, peers out impatiently, folding his arms over his chest.
"You haven't closed up yet? What's taking so long?" he demands, focusing his gaze on the hunched figure still clipping at roses. "Aya and I are almost finished with dinner. Why do you always have to hold things up, Kudo? Hayaku, already!"
"Relax, I'm almost done. Don't get your panties in a twist, KenKen." Youji grins, standing back to admire his hurried but careful work on the budding blossoms. "Save that job for Aya, ne?"
"Nani!?!"
"Nothing."
Ken scowls darkly, arms still firmly folded over of his soiled, kitchen apron in obvious challenge to the remark. Setting the sheers on the counter, Youji doesn't seem to notice, moving swiftly to pull down the grating at the front and finally lock the shop up for the night.
Eyeing his friends with a half-smile he can't help succumbing to, Omi shrugs, slipping off his apron with a sympathetic nod to his brunette companion, who remains menacingly poised in the doorway leading upstairs.
Soon enough, almost everything is closed down, but just as Youji pulls on the shutters, a small, pale hand catches it a foot from meeting the ground, revealing a pair of feet on the other side. With the grating almost completely set in place, those feet are the only thing Youji's can see of this stranger, and they are not a pair he recognizes. Actually, the shoes look a few sizes too big for whomever it is, like some kid guilty of stealing daddy's slippers for the day.
"Gomen, little fella, but we're closed right now. Come back tomorrow." Youji instructs, holding the grating in place, though the intruder is struggling to lift it back up.
"Sumimasen...this can't wait till tomorrow." replies a very timid voice, desperately urgent, and sporting a strange accent amidst his fluid Japanese. It is definitely a young boy, a teenager no less, but what really grabs Youji's attention is the purr of that intriguing voice. It sounds so familiar. "Dozo...this is very important. I need you help."
Youji's peers back over his shoulder, silently asking for Ken and Omi to give their opinions. Both have moved forward now, curious as to who could be calling on them so late in the evening, and offer their friend supportive nods, indicating Youji might as well give in and see what the boy needs.
Obediently, he lifts the shutters up with a mighty lurch, throwing them back into place, and bringing the boys face to face with their unexpected guest.
"Arigato. This *is* 'Kitty in the House,' ne? I've been searching for hours." the boy smiles kindly, shivering slightly within the folds of his oversized jacket. Everything he has on is oversized, to be exact. The belt of his pants is tightened as far as it can go to keep them from falling off, his shirt is tucked in tight, most likely to his knees, and the coat humorously hangs off his shoulders, showing only the tips of his fingers to the naked eye. "I know you're closed, but I really need to talk to you. I think you might be able to help me figure out what's going on."
The stunned members of Weiss give no answer - they can't - staring voicelessly at this young boy, 16 if not younger, who has interrupted their night. It isn't shock over his oddly dressed appearance, but something else about the way he looks, causing their tongues to be tied.
He stands about Omi's height, thin and fair skinned, with long hair like the horizon at sunset hanging past his shoulders, and bright blue eyes sparkling in the dimming light of day. His nose is sharp, as are the rest of his youthful features, and suddenly, the edge of his voice reveals why it sounds like one they've heard before, at least now that they have seen the boy's face.
It's a German accent, with a somewhat nasal hitch, in a higher register than that of the person they remember this voice belonging to.
"Oh my God..." Youji whispers, and the others can only stare, mouths open wide at the figure appearing so young and unaware before them. "It's Schuldrich."
*****A/N*****
*evil cackle* Get where I'm heading with this? No, Schu-honey doesn't know who he is, but the rest you'll just have to see for yourself as the story goes. Evil of me? Maybe. But it is something new. A spell to cool down his telepathy took away more than he bargained for - years and memory, as well as all of his powers. It may or may not be permanant, but I'm not telling which.
Slight shounen ai is possible, and probable, but the rest of Schwartz will make little appearance, if any. I'm thinking this will be about eight parts or so, but the other chapters will be longer than this one.
FEEDBACK PLEASE! And remember, anything is possible. Ja!