It had been a simple day at the Koneko. Just the events that a florist would normally experience, deliveries, arrangements, simple sales, and restraining red heads from attack 14 year old girls with any object in arms length. Aya's not that pleasant to be around when there's no coffee. It wouldn't have been a problem if Ken would simply keep soccer out of the kitchen, but that just wasn't an option.

"Aaaaand, we're closed!" Yohji said while falling back into a chair as Omi waved off the last customer of the day.

"Pah, don't go throwing your self down like you worked oh-so-hard, Yohji! How many arrangements did you finish today, now?" Ken stated only half playfully while throwing the lanky playboy a stare that he couldn't quite define.

"Aaaah, Kenken I was manning the register though, don't go playing the blame game now" Yohji said whining, not even bothering to look at Ken, or keep his eyes open for that matter. Ken snorted in return.

"Mm. Yohji will be doing the deliveries tomorrow anyways. So arguments don't matter." Aya stated whilst walking to pull down the oh-holy steel barrier of high school girls. Aya really needs his coffee. He had reached up to grab the metal handle, then instinctively looked down to make sure nothing was in the way, One of his toenails never grew back right after slamming the grate on it once. So he edged his feet back and look to make sure nothing was obscuring the space for that grate to fall.

There was an Irishman in the way.

Aya's not one to show any weakness, but a magically appearing Farfarello was a bit of a shocker, Aya managed to retain a scream and simply jump back away from the insane Irish almost albino. A red eyed Farf would very well be even more so frightening. One wonders about those amber eyes of his.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Aya stated, trying to sound as cool as he always was, though his heart was racing a mile a minute. 'Surprise! Farfarello!' Wasn't something you could just breathe off in a single sigh. The Irishman didn't respond but snaked himself under the metal grate, followed by the rest of Schwarz, following him in their intrusion of the Koneko. Before anyone could even ask what this was about. Brad spoke up.

"I had a vision, one set off many years into the future. Well, a few at least, it was quite hard to tell. But yes, this taste of the future was bitter. Very bitter. I'd like to stop it at all costs, So Schwarz, and even Weiss will never have to suffer it. I want to try everything to stop this, Weiss, everything you can fathom." By this point in brads speech the four Weiss had basically the same expression, at least they all were thinking it. Just complete and utter shock, what on earth could be so awful that Brad was willing to do anything to make sure it never happened?

"Lovely questions, little Weiss kittens, I invaded Braddy's mind was able to draw a diagram or two about what he's seen, and frankly, It simple isn't pretty" the flame haired German seemed rather smug about this whole situation, he must have been quite proud of his diagrams, because he didn't seem pleased with whatever the situation was. Nor did Crawford seem pleased being referred to as 'Braddy'. Schuldich shoved a hand into is trench coat pocket to pull out a mess full of papers. At single glance one could tell our German friend was far from a skilled artist, but you couldn't blame him for trying. He flipped through the mess of masterpieces and pulled out one paper from near the middle of the crazy pile, but more so to the end. He handed the slightly bent paper to the grumpiest of the four Weiss florists.

Aya looked at this work, not thinking the drawing was as bad as the author before made it seem. Something about the drawing looked quite familiar to Aya. Though to many questions came up to really think about it. Who is this? Why does it have releavance to me? Who designed that trench coat? Does he do other work? What colour is this guys hair? Since he could only only voice at once, he chose the one that was prying at his mind more than the others.

"What colour is this guys hair?" he asked sounding only 70 as assertive than he usually was.

"I've been calling it Marurple. Though Nagi seems to insist we fit brown in there too." Schuldig growled a bit at his youngest teammate who chose to ignore that the conversation ever occurred. Farf seemed to have a look of dismay, well psychotic dismay, about him. You see, he too, had been on the side of Nagi in adding brown to the unholy hybrid of colours, yet Schuldig seemed to forget about him. Farfarello certainly wasn't immune to emotional pain, you know.

Aya looked down to the averagely drawn man…bittersweet smile…spiffy trench coat….long Marurple locks…seemed like a distant acquaintance. Like some man he may have bumped into one day and knocked over all his stuff and seemed to bother to help him with it. Though he couldn't recall a situation at all like that ever happening; so he simply decided to shoot another question to the vibrant haired German.

"…Who is this and why does it matter to me?" He stated in an annoyed confusion. Schu opened his mouth; readily armed with a witty retort, but Crawford shoved his hand over the Germans mouth pushing him backwards upstaging him. Brad thought the comment wasn't that witty at all.

"It's you, you in three short years." Aya gaped a bit at the news, hand slowly making it's way to his ear tails subconsciously, stroking the silky strands of hair that he lacked in the not that bad drawing of his future self.

"…Eh…Meh…could be worse…" Aya stated trying to simply come to terms on what he becomes. He really wasn't that bothered aside from the hair colour; which he believed Marurple fit quite nicely, though he wasn't fond of the colour nonetheless. Schu started smirking, smirking that could only be described with the word smirkily, no matter how fictional it may be. Aya thought it was about the next paper he had held between his fingers. But a small humph form Nagi proved it to be some sort of mental conversation, Then he remembered Schuldig's first comment on Maruple, and then thought there was a bit of triumph in his smirk. Schu obviously found Aya's thought about his lovely colour name, and used it to prove Nagi's theory lack luster at best. All of this deep observation was interrupted by a shrill, painful, scream.

"MY HAAAAAAAAAAAIR! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH MY HAIR!" Schwarz seemed pretty calm about this all simply standing there and looking cool per usual, with just a bit of snickering from Schuldig. Weiss, on the other hand, all looked a bit shocked and rather uncomfortable. Yohji, seemed to be the most bothered, being the one screaming clenching Schu's mid rate drawings in his hand.

"NO FUCKING WAY! I'll never, NEVER let that happen to my hair! This best some sick joke, Schwarz!" Yohji threw down the picture to the floor in anger. His hair was sacred, never it be tampered with in any fashion. Many street caricature artists have learned this. Yohji indeed loved getting drawn be these random kindly folk. But that's another story for another day. How's Saturday for you? Anywho; We must drift our attention back to our grief stricken blonde haired friend. Yohji, in case you couldn't tell…just making sure. Yohji was still ranting on about that little hair thing while everyone else just about stopped listening, as it got redundant at times. Schuldig also grew tired of the hair rantings of Yohji. He tried his best to make his hair look as nice as possible. Now he had to decide who's future to unveil next. Our favorite German, as he would love to think he is, got quite the kick out of passing out his little scribbles. He decided he would give out Omi's next, in hope that he would cry. It really didn't take much. Se he simply smirked, as he seems to do most of the time, and handed Omi his sketch. The figure looked completely alien to him. Easy to say he was most puzzled. Which is unfortunate for him for he's not saying much in his state of thought. And he hasn't had much input in this tale yet either. Do not fret, dear Omi. Being my favourite, you will surely have something to say! Like now.

"What the fuck is this shit! You stupid bastard!" was certainly not his reply. Perhaps my editor should stop screwing with me. Perhaps not. Ignoring that last statement,

Omi simply stared at the picture lifting his head from it as if looking for and explanation, though not really expecting one.

"You look like Les Misérables Inspector Javert." Nagi blurted out rather awkwardly. It seemed he had a need to tell someone that. Schu managed to make a face that emoted 'Theatre Queer' towards his younger companion.

"Hey! It does look like Inspector Javert!" Beamed our genki assassin friend. He Had only seen Les Mis Because he school had done it, He did the lighting for some extra credit. Nagi smirked just a bit and stared Omi, the two managed to communicate by eye contact. Omi smiled, Nagi managed to smile back. And within moments, The two jumped out and began to circle each one of the most memorable scenes in the play: The Confrontation, completely out of character. Nagi took the role of Valjean for the soul fact it was Omi growing up to be Javert. Otherwise he was much more suited for the role. Moving on from utterly pointless banter; after the spitting of 'Javert' by the two in unison; It was time for the young assassins to drift back to reality, half realizing that there were other people around. The others stared in a rather confused state, but simply decided to shake it off. Schuldig was thoroughly disappointed though. He wanted some tears. He then walked over to Ken and bitterly thrust his sketch into his hands. Ken took the paper a closely examined it for quite some time. Quite some time indeed. It was a matter of many minutes before he looked up to stare Schuldig straight in eye.

"Damn….I'm hot!" Ken stated with an emotion of 3 parts happiness, 1 part idiocy. Everyone, in turn, loomed over Kens shoulder to see the paper. 3 parts skepticality, 1 part curiousness. Yohji blinked once, the was taken aback a bit

"Damn, he is hot!" He exclaimed leaning back from the huddled group of killers. Everyone looked back at him with a questioning stare. And He stared back.

And things were real, real awkward.

---

Don't think you get away without a rant from me; just saved it for the end as not to turn you off from the fic embarrassed smile doubt it helped though. Anywho; I have mixed feelings towards Glühen. The negative ones are more fun to write about! laughs Moving on, this is a bit of a monstrosity; but I couldn't help it I figured that since I'm not quite the author, I could at least amuse one person with this I'd be content. Really this was all my editor's idea. Much love to her 3. Anywho; this is not to be taken seriously, just some bullshit humour. But I certainly cannot wait to write more. So please, remember not to take this too seriously nervous look I'm really not that much of an author. Nonetheless,

Ever Light says reviews are snazzy!