Author's notes: Right. This is my first attempt at Weiss Kreuz fan-fiction. I apologise in advance for any glaringly OOC moments, stupidity and canonical mistakes – they'll show up often and in a glaring manner, although hopefully you'll all understand that it isn't deliberate. I confess to not knowing the show that well, nor do I dismiss the fact that not having seen the entire series (or anything close to the entire series) is going to impact on things such as getting the characters right. I do love what I've seen of the show, and I've been reading fanfic from the series off and on for several years. WK is kind of my fall back fandom, whenever I've exhausted all possible archives and avenues for fics in a current fandom, I go see what is new in WK. This is however the first time I've been inspired to actually write in it.
This fic is going to be a fairly short series – most likely around 4 or 5 chapters, and not exactly overly long chapters at that. Any reviews, thoughts and crit is must certainly welcome and appreciated.
And onto the actual story, already!
Change of Heart – Prologue.
This year, they decided to place bets.
Omi thought that Schuldig would start two weeks early this year, in an attempt to bed Youji before Valentine's Day.
Ken decided that two weeks was stretching the whole façade a little too far, and that Schuldig did have people to kill and torture, after all. The presents and lewd calls would start five days before V. Day.
It didn't matter either way, was Youji's breezy addition. After all, nothing the insane telepath had attempted the last three years had worked, and everyone knew that Youji really had far better taste to date someone like that.
Aya? Well, Aya was too Aya-like to participate in such a scene, but Omi claimed to have heard the red-head muttering something under his breath about why didn't Schuldig just get Youji drunk and engage in a burping competition with him, as that was often enough to impress Youji enough to spread his legs for anyone. Not that Aya was calling Youji a slut. He was merely implying it.
Four years. This insane charade had been going on for four years now. The first year that the overly pink Valentine's card had arrived for Youji, sprayed with at least four different perfumes to the point where the ink had run inside, they had all just looked at the thing in stunned disbelief. Oh, they'd caught on straight away that Schuldig's declaration of love was about as honest as his desire to have Youji's children (or at least that was what it looked like it said), and it had become obvious rather quickly that Schuldig was messing with Youji's head.
They hadn't expected it to continue, not when Youji had blown Schuldig off repetitively – although not in the way Schuldig was so obviously wanting. The second year it had happened, they were reaching the height of their conflict with Schwartz, and the last thing they needed was some sex crazed maniac sending dozens of roses to the store each day in a declaration of undying lust. Youji put it down to the heated nature of battle that he almost considered going and engaging in 'hot, pulsing sex' as Schuldig had so elegantly put it, that year. The others were all horrified that one of their own teammates could be so attracted to the thought of sex with the enemy during a period when their enemy really, really wanted to kill them. Badly.
There had been no desire to engage in any such action the following year, and not merely because they were shocked to find that dead men could send flowers and make explicit phone calls from hell. Finding out that Schwartz weren't actually dead had been a blow, although it was obvious that Youji was beginning to revel in the attention. Besides, as Youji was wont to point out. They were technically bodyguards now; a normal, perfectly legit occupation. Not that Youji accepted any of Schuldig's advances as a result, it was obvious that Youji was having just as much fun turning down Schuldig as Schuldig had being a pain in the arse.
Which brought them to year number four, and a smug Omi who was currently holding in his arms a small rose bush with a gaudy bow around it and a familiar pink envelope stuck to the pot with what looked like duck tape. The date? February 2nd, almost exactly two weeks before Valentine's Day.
"No fair," Ken grumbled as Omi plonked the plant that had been found outside when he opened up that morning, on the counter. "Who knew that Schwartz would have a light time table at this time of the year? Don't they have some Valentine's Day massacre to organise, or something? Besides, it could be from someone else."
"Now, now Ken-Ken. No need to be jealous just because you don't have a former enemy lusting over you." Youji practically swept into the room, greedy eyes honing in on his 'surprise' valentine. Ken didn't respond with the fact it was most likely that Schuldig wanted to fuck simply with Youji's head as opposed to Youji in general, both easy lays on the best of days. But it was only because Aya had just entered the room that he had kept his mouth shut, as even though Omi was a whole lot more grown up than most people his age, Aya still didn't like it if any of them so much as uttered a curse word in front of the youngest assassin.
"Well, what does it say?" Aha. Even though it was said indifferently, even Aya seemed interested in what Schuldig's latest ploy was.
"Hang on, oh fearless leader." With a quick flick of his fingers, the envelope fell the ground and Youji was holding the pink (of course) card within his grip. "Dearest, favourite Kitten," Youji started, in a deliberately thick accent that was closer to mimicking a cow giving birth than a particular German. "It has been many months since I saw you last, so I decided to write you a poem to show you how tight my heart has become in sorrow since I last spied you." Youji broke off with a snort. "More likely how tight his pants have got. Seriously, who writes this kind of junk?" Youji went on to read the poem silently, before breaking into barely contained laughter. "Oh, man. I didn't know that there were so many words that rhymed with fu-" he broke off just in time upon seeing Aya's glare. "Uh. Fun. I didn't know that there were so many words that rhymed with fun." Omi looked far from impressed. "I think this little gem I'm going to keep to myself, sorry boys. This personal and private poem is too good to share." Now Youji was just being cruel.
"Hey, maybe it's not even for you." It was a lame protest and Ken knew it, but the thought of Youji bragging for the next couple of weeks as each present came in was going to drive him insane. "For all you know, he might have sent the flowers to … ah … Aya."
And THAT was how Ken found himself working the afternoon shift on his own. Youji had almost died laughing and had to 'rest' in a hope to have gotten over it by the time his hot date with some blonde chick started in several hours, Aya had given him a death glare before leaving through the back of the shop and hadn't since returned, and Omi had the second half of the shift off.
It just wasn't fair.
After putting together two new arrangements, managing to drop not one but three bags of soil on his new sneakers, and breaking one overly expensive pot that the store was really better off without as long Aya didn't find out about it, it was with pure relief that he flipped the 'open' sign over to 'closed.' Being at the other end of the shop, he almost missed the sound of the phone ringing, but luckily Omi had only been in the back kitchen and took enough pity on Ken to answer it himself, only to pass it on to Ken with a hint of childish delight in his voice.
"Ken, it's for you. Schuldig."
Ken took the phone with a groan, hunting around in the bottom draw of their front desk for the pink stationary that Schuldig preferred. This had become a regular pre Valentine's Day event as well, although it could be put down to dumb luck. The first time Schuldig had called the shop to order a delivery of some expensive bouquet for Youji, Ken had been the unlucky fool to answer the phone. After an extensive exchange of threats and promises of death, Ken had eventually taken the order, for reasons even he wasn't quite sure of. Schuldig had apparently been impressed with Ken's ability to transcribe Schuldig's sexual fantasies and wet dreams to paper, enough so as to request Ken become his personal transcriber whenever he chose to use their shop for his crime.
It was not, strangely enough, a very enjoyable job.
"Hello, Ken-Ken." If it were not for the fact that Ken was used to the German being overly familiar by now, he would have yelled at the other man for that. Instead, he simply growled threateningly. "I was wondering if you could take an order for me."
"Yeah, yeah. What arrangement would you like this year? Something with rhododendrons, perhaps? Or maybe some foxglove?"
"My dear Ken-Ken. Surely you don't think anyone would be moved by a bouquet that represented danger or insincerity, do you?"
"Oh, I don't know, they say honesty is the greatest form of flattery."
"And here I was thinking that the phrase had a slightly different beginning. But then, you know Japanese far better than I do." Damn right he did. He ignored the sickeningly arftifical humbleness in the German's obviously mocking tone. "I was thinking perhaps that this year I would start with something heavy with belladonnas." Schuldig continued, and it took a moment for Ken to come up with the meaning of the flower.
"Loneliness? I'm not sure Youji's going to find that very effective. He prefers the 'lusting night and day' type of symbolism." Ken wasn't stupid enough to not know that the 'loneliness' was not supposed to represent Schuldig. Omi watched on from his position perched on the corner of the desk, curious eyes wide with interest as he watched the one-sided conversation with obvious attention. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm being paid to take your order, not complain about it." The sarcasm that dripped from Ken's voice was like venom.
The pieces of pink paper that Ken had taken out earlier filled quickly after that, with almost graphic descriptions that included handcuffs, various and surely mostly impossible sexual positions and some strange bit about walking in the park with his 'kitten' while eating ice cream together. The first two years that Ken had been doing this, he'd blushed all the different shades of red and white, settling eventually on a bright pink colour. He'd thrown a through of his own not nice words back at the German, horrified that it only caused the other man to become more lewd and mocking. The third year he'd found himself starting to get desensitised to it, to the point that by the time Schuldig had ordered his last bouquet, Ken had been occasionally pointing out the odd improvement or correction.
"Yeah, I got the bit about the handcuffs, Schuldig," Ken finally said as Schuldig started to run low of ideas, five pages later. "And yes. I didn't forget about shagging like bunnies. How are you wanting to sign this off?"
"From your devastatingly handsome German, I think should be adequate." Ken snorted in response, but wrote it down anyway. It was a whole lot subtler than some of Schuldig's previous sign offs.
"And just a simple 'Beloved Youji' this year? Although nothing can compare to the wonderfully romantic 'My Favourite Fuck-Toy' of last Valentine's Day."
"Hmm. I think a 'Dear Ken' will be suitable enough, this time round."
The phone slipped from Ken's hands, crashing to the cement floor below.
To be continued ...