By way of a Prologue

This applies to all chapters of Fading Light, to avoid having to repeat this at the beginning of each new one.
When uploading documents, it appears that rather frequently, spaces are running together. Tried to correct this, without success. Has anyone else had this problem, and knows how to correct it?

Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Rating: M/NC-15
Spoilers: Not that I'm aware of. Later perhaps.

Summary: The Weiss boys at war with one another, their conscience, the constraints of a reality they hate... And there is more to the Schwarz men than meets the eye. Major ANGST, some lime. Set before the great cataclysm of the tower. I have played fast and loose with some character ages simply because it seemed to make more sense to have a grown-up Yohji and Aya, with Crawford to match. And for the record, I like them all, but I think, all empathy aside, that assassins are killers for money, and no shining heroes. I also tried to bring back the supernatural aura of the Schwarz men into something that has more to do with psychopathology than magic. To me, they're human, and I found it challenging to keep them this way instead of using powers and talents as an easy explanation for what happens to them.

Related stories:
Harigane – Yohji about the Weiss boys on the job
Special Gifts – after Aya's melt-down, when Yohji refers to the birthday gift he has in mind for Aya
Winding Down – snapshot stories that run parallel with 'Fading Light', fromthe early days of Weiss (I Transformation), through the time when Aya loses his old self (II Trapped), until after the cataclysm of the tower and the break-up of Weiss (III All Over, IV Full Circle), to the recovery, of sorts, of Weiss and Schwarz (V To Live Forever).

xxx

End of rant. I have no beta yet, so please forgive me for slip-ups and feel free to correct any mistakes – I appreciate any feedback and usually take the bad with the good as long as it is constructive.

Hope you have fun – it is a dark take on the Weiss boys and perhaps an odd one on the men of Schwarz.

Cheers
LoveyouHateyou

xxx

FADING LIGHT

Out – Yohji and Manx

Manx tapped a cigarette out of her packet and lit it without taking her eyes off Yohji who sat opposite her at the small table in the street cafe. Of course she had claimed the place that allowed her to oversee the entire place, with a dozen similar tables crammed into a living-room sized space and a shop window to the street.

She made no effort to pretend. Her gaze kept routinely scanning cafe, street and Yohji himself, logging details into her impressive memory that she might find useful later. She made great use of details, Yohji recalled with bitterness, she was good at recruiting, picking out any weakness in her targets with unfailing cleverness. Astute, sharp, ruthless, with a gleeful taste for power and manipulation, Manx was a formidable handler. "You are in no position to refuse this mission, Balinese," she said through a mouthful of smoke, her eyes briefly touching his. He tried a winning grin, with an edge of sultriness, and her mouth twitched with a hint of disdain. "And don't try to pull your charm on me. It's not working."

With a sigh, he dropped his attempt at pretending, took his mug of coffee and began to stir the dark brew. A nervous little gesture, he knew it betrayed his uneasy state of mind to her, and he could not care less. She had his file anyway. "I want out," he said, fixing his glance on her lips. She had pretty lips, pink and moist, but right now, they were set in a rigid line. Manx was no woman, Yohji concluded, but some kind of monster, sent to haunt him. Them all.

"You cannot have 'out'," she hissed, matter of factly, but a streak of satisfaction stained the flat tone. "You belong to Kritiker."

"I belong to myself," he snapped.

"You don't believe that, do you?" A long stream of smoke right into his face. She was getting him annoyed, and she enjoyed this game. She took pleasure in inflicting pain on him. Her way of avenging what he had done to Neu? What a strange idea. "My dear Kudo." Her voice dripping mockery. "What's so good about you, hm? You killed the woman who loved you, shredding her throat with your damn wire no less. You're a whore. Your redhead is an autistic maniac, a psychopath, goodness, I've never met anyone so cracked up. Know what, Bali? One day, he'll self-destruct, and that's why he's in with us. A confused, crossdressing, walking time bomb. And our dear Siberian? A failed soccer player, all brute force and a vile temper, too short to reign himself in? Last but not least, this hacking little fuckhead who's had his first killing under his belt at hardly twelve. Oh, and it does help that you're all fucking one another. No, you're not nice people, and neither am I."

Yohji stared at her. He had not realised. He had allowed himself to slip up yet again, by underestimating her. She sure knew how to hit low, and the worst thing about this was that she had scraped right over an old sore. Yes, she knew that too by the looks of it for now she gave him a cold smile. "So don't try that charm thing on me, I know you and I'll match you any time."

"Wonder what's on your file then, Manx," he muttered hoarsely.

"You'll never know, love, but be assured it looks a lot more suave than yours." She let her smile broaden. "Normal would be the word, I think."

"Good to know you're at ease with yourself," he quipped to hide the pain – she had stabbed deeper than he cared for.

He did not miss the flash of darkness in her eyes. The flicker of a moment, the fraction of a heartbeat, and surprised he realised that he had just briefly unhinged her, before her mask snapped firmly back into place. "I've sent the mission brief down the web. Tell that boytoy of yours to track it, he'll know what to do. The keyword is RosesInIce."

She got up and tossed a few coins onto the table. "I expect you to report back by the end of the week."

He watched her stalk off, her tall, slim frame encased in black jeans and a dark turtleneck sweater, her hair bouncing over her back in a lush ponytail. She was pretty, too, and she knew this as well. But hell would freeze over before she would allow anyone to see into her, least of all him – Manx meant strictly business, they all had learned that the hard way.

Yohji bit his lip. For Aya's sake, for his own, he had hoped to crack her up just a little, but he had never been more sure than now that he had lost a round.

xxx

What a slut, Aya thought as his glance scraped over Yohji who slouched in the window, one leg drawn up against his chest, his arms wrapped around, chin on knee. He was smoking and staring out onto the back street. For hours, he had not said a word but sat there, eyes heavy lidded, mouth slack, the reek of pot clinging to him and filling the room with its cloying sweetness. He would be stoned by now.

Omi was hunting the mission details on the web, careful to erase any tags and tracers. Piece by excruciating piece, the picture emerged: deadline for report, safe house following completion, contingency plan, location... Taking out a drug baron to serve justice did not seem such a bad thing.

Had they been asked to deliver the guy to the police, it would have been a good thing indeed. But they were paid to kill him and to erase any evidence they could get hold of.

So it was murder.

Aya did not feel all that bothered by this. A job like any other? Perhaps not, but he preferred to see himself as a purge of evil. It sounded nicer than hitman, killer, murderer. And it paid well. Kritiker had his sister, fine. Whether she would ever wake up from her coma, he had no idea. He did his job, for her comfort as much as for his own, for this had become a way of life. To kill without punishment, to take what he liked, to drink in the rush of power when blood flooded over his hands. Sometimes it sent him so high he felt dizzy. Manx was not entirely right: he could have walked away, because his sister was as good as dead to the world. But where would he go, what else was like this, and why should he? He felt rather... comfortable. And Yohji was a wimp.

A good shag, though. Aya bit his lip. Having Yohji squirm beneath him was second best to taking a life. Yohji knew how to tease him out of his mind, how to coax him into a Nirvana full of blasting heat and blazing stars, body and mind bursting with lust and greed until they were slaked, sated, floating in oblivion for a short while.

A smirk tugged at his mouth. Omi might know too much for his age, but he was too clumsy, and Ken too plain. Yohji had perfected sex to an artform. Well, he practised enough.

Slut.

xxx

Yohji had given up watching Aya. The soft sliding of whetstone over steel told him enough: the redhead was busy glaring at him while long, white hands moved evenly to grind the katana to razor sharpness. Aya sat crosslegged on the tatami, by the door, his back against the wall. His usual place, suitable to trip up any unwelcome guest and slip away in a flash. Aya knew his trade. Unlike Yohji, Aya had come to like what he was doing.

They had argued about this, and now they were on the rocks with one another yet again. Same thing when Yohji, for once, had wanted to reverse their game in bed – Aya had let rip, and quite virtually beaten him into submission. Sure, Yohji had been the one to show him, and sometimes Aya invited him to take, but this time, Yohji had tried to trigger the role reversal, and had his hide to show for it. Aya would not have it. Had tied his hands behind his back and taken Yohji dry, hard, with the same icy glitter in his eyes that he wore when on mission.

Yohji had been shocked, every instinct screaming down his nerves to hide his fear, to bear it, to appear stoic, but he had torn and bitten his lips bloody in the process, until Aya was done, let off and tossed him a knife, sure that Yohji would be unable to crawl after Aya to kill him, sure of himself, sure of having shown Yohji who was boss.

Perhaps Manx was right. Not a nice thought.

Still, he did not want to meet the business end of Aya's katana, he had seen what it could do, he had seen Aya's face and the expression of lust in his eyes when his mission face dropped and they relaxed after a job. Yohji liked life too much to provoke Aya into seeing him as a target.

He held no doubt that he was Yohji now, and someone else when working. He had always wanted to believe that Abyssinian and Aya were different people. Now things did not seem so clear-cut anymore.

xxx