FLUESTERND - by Crimson
*****1*****
Wake up.
In one way or another Fate is destined to royally screw you over. If you're not prepared to fight back, you'll get driven right into the ground. After all, even a golden shovel falters when digging a fallen angel out of Hell. Nevertheless, there is still one, universal, all saving truth:
Hope.
Hope never dies. It lies in waiting to make its move, suffocating the disbeliever, the persistent pessimist, and it always gains the upper hand if allowed enough room to breathe. Form, however, is never universal. Hope has more configurations than the world has false deities.
Open your eyes.
Hope will appear, whether it strikes you as a song, a scream, a trembling thunder, or the soft, sweet call......of......whispering......
*****
Delicate and nimble fingers ache across the keyboard, droning out an endless song that will haunt the owner's dreams if he continues playing the tune...
Click. Pound. Click, click, click. How he wishes to be rid of the dreadful, empty echo.
No such luck, unfortunately; he has a job to do.
(What will be the end of this......) Young Naoe Nagi wonders. (He keeps giving me orders - do this, do that - but never tells me why. Why do you keep everything to yourself, Brad? When will it end.....?)
"You're not supposed to care, kid. Remember?"
Nagi grimaces, his marred reflection bouncing back at him from the computer screen. "Stop looking inside my head, Schuldrich." he replies dryly. "Don't you have your own job to do?"
A tall red-head steps from the shadows of the far wall, grinning like the Cheshire Cat; a sly creature who slinks about, tormenting the innocent. Jade eyes glow with an inhuman radiance, dancing to the click-clack rhythm of the keys still typing away, though Nagi has taken his hands from the keyboard.
"Why do you even bother doing it manually at all?" Schuldrich asks, humored by the thought. "You're just another freak like the rest of us. Trying to forget that won't take it away." he pauses to laugh, and Nagi shudders inwardly, feeling much like the student who cringes at their teacher's nails raking across the chalkboard. "You'd like it to go away, wouldn't you...? Huh, kid?"
(Kid, kid, kid! I have a name!)
"You ask me the same question everyday." Large eyes flick up as Nagi speaks, though he refuses to turn towards his companion. "Aren't you tired of the same answer? I want *you* to go away. Leave me alone. Walk around in someone else's mind for a change."
Another scratch on the blackboard. "I'd rather stick with yours. There's always something new inside to surprise me."
Schuldrich has been advancing on the boy by the computer screen, standing just behind him now, and thin lips curl back to grin again, widely, as long arms wrap in a false, motherly way around Nagi's narrow shoulders.
The red-head bends down, those twisted lips whispering into the boy's ear. "Any juicy details on your idiot aijin to share, or haven't you taken a go at it yet?"
Immediately, Schuldrich begins to feel a throbbing in his arms, as if someone is physically trying to pry them away, and suddenly he is tossed back, nearly toppling over, though Nagi hasn't moved an inch.
"Toto is not an idiot...and I will NEVER share any part of her with you..." the small boy's words quiver up and down, laced with acidic tone. "If you even *think* of speaking about her that way again- "
"You'll what?" Schuldrich asks smugly, steadying his footing. "You'll throw me into a wall? Rip my limbs from my body without even lifting a finger, the way you're just sitting in that chair now? What, Nagi? Tell me what you'll do?"
The air is stale, thick, and impossible to breathe. A world cut off from time and space instantly becomes far too small.
Nagi has turned in his chair, watching the red-head hatefully, and Schuldrich can feel the energy surging through the room, bouncing off the constellations on the walls. He smiles. A thousand nails on a hundred chalkboards could not replicate the shuddering impact of laughter filling the room.
(Stop it........stop.......) Nagi screams silently, petrified in place as his mind continues to fight off the growing grip of both unsteady powers struggling for the upper hand.
"Enough!"
Like a cord cut, a new voice shatters the building tension, and Nagi can almost see the shards of cosmic glass hitting the floor as his mind breathes relief.
A rigid figure steps into the room, blinding them with the light that emanates from beyond the doorway. He is taller than Schuldrich, taller by just enough to make him appear that much more threatening. His hair is dark - perfect - and his bronzed eyes glare with authority from behind a pair of black frames.
"Schuldrich, I've warned you before about-"
"Yeah, yeah. 'Don't mess around with something you can't completely control'." the red-head interrupts, mocking the newcomer's tone with a familiar saying. "I know the lecture, Bradley. Can't I ever have a little fun?"
Brad Crawford folds his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at Schuldrich as if preparing to punish a small child.
"It's just as much my fault, Crawford." Nagi breaks in, before Brad can reply to the red-head's impudence. "I don't know enough about my abilities to use them so foolishly. I'm sorry."
(There's that youth talking again, kid. We never signed any contract ordering compassion, you know?)
Nagi flinches at Schuldrich's message, but ignores it. He could never lie to Brad. Compassion has nothing to do with it.
"You should both know better." their leader growls, dropping his arms to the side. "Or would you prefer to destroy each other before we reach our goal?"
Nagi hangs his head in thought at those brutal words. (Maybe if we knew fully what that goal is......)
(Don't forget I can hear you, Naoe.)
The young boy pushes his thoughts of doubt away in a heartbeat. What Schu hears, Schu tells.
"Are you listening to me?!"
Schuldrich and Nagi's heads jerk up at Brad's harsh voice.
"I will not have either of you damaging our work when we are so close," he continues. "With the last pieces now in place, we're nearly ready to...uh..." a sudden jolt causes him to trail off, his gaze going blank.
The others look to each other without saying a word, and Schu nods knowingly. They wait in silence for Brad to find his way back, signaled by another slight convulsion which throws him somewhat off balance.
"What did you see?" Schuldrich asks flatly, once Brad has regained himself.
Eager with curiosity, Nagi's eyes widen in wait for the answer. A reflexed prayer flutters through the boy's mind, begging for the premonition of an end...some end...any end...to their plight.
"Get Farfarello." Brad commands in reply to Schu's question. "There is a new threat."
*****
There is a new beginning. Spring flourishes through the land; pastel flowers, warmer weather, and the constant tweet and buzz of revived life. Shadows and clouds of thickening grey rage and grow in the distance, but that can be forgotten, for sunlight glitters down on a humble flower shop defiant against the approaching storm.
Light can be so terribly stubborn.
A weathered mobile home is parked in the alley just behind the shop, and all its doors stand ajar as it waits to be fully unloaded after a long, ceaseless journey.
"I hate getting the last batch! The biggest boxes are always on the bottom."
This annoyed and slightly high-pitched voice has come from a diminutive, teenage boy, with golden strands of hair wisping into his brilliant, cobalt eyes as he stomps his foot in defeat.
"Omi, with spaghetti noodle arms like that, you might as well give up while you're ahead." jokes the boy's slightly older friend, who towers nearly half a foot taller. "Leave this grunt work to the real men, bishounen. Wouldn't want to roughen up that soft skin."
He laughs heartily at his own joke, but frustrated, young Tsukiyono Omi most definitely doesn't find the humor. "Baka! I'd like to see you do some actual manual labor for a change, Youji-kun!"
Kudo Youji, with wild, sandy hair pulled back loosly from his face, gives no hint of leaving his perch against the back door to the shop. He only smirks, taking a long drag from his ever-present cigarette. "Already unpacked." he replies, emerald eyes shimmering. "I think I deserve a little R 'n' R."
Omi grunts with disapproval, turning to face his companion sharply. "You've had nothing *but* R 'n' R since you first learned how to spell it!"
Another puff of smoke escapes smiling lips. "Never cared much for spelling really. School, the three R's; all rubbish. I prefer the three S's myself: Sex - sex -..." Puff. Puff. "...and cigarettes."
The younger boy groans audibly, returning his attention to the white, cardboard case that is giving him such a headache. It is filled with sweet-smelling, violet flowers, the last bunch left to be stored inside the shop, and it is nearly half the size of the boy himself.
(I can do this...I *can* do this...) Omi chants internally, stretching his arms around the box's base.
"All the money in the world says you fall flat on your cute, little behind after one step." Youji kids, watching as Omi prepares to hoist the case from the RV.
Omi pays no mind, though, determined to get that last batch of flowers inside...one way or another. He steadies himself, takes a deep breath, and hoists the case fully into his arms. Nodding in slight admiration, Youji is surprised the boy managed to lift the box at all, but he won't get much time to savor the thought. As Omi attempts to turn around, he quickly looses his footing and begins backpedaling away from the vehicle...right towards a certain blonde-haired ladies' man.
Luckily for Youji, his unfortunate friend loses balance completely *before* ramming into him. Realizing what is about to happen, he takes a quick step forward to catch the stumbling boy, and although his cigarette drops in the process, Omi lands safely in his outstretched arms.
"Told you so." he declares merrily.
"Hey, do you guys need any help out here?" calls a sudden voice from just behind the door.
"Ken, no!"
Too late.
Youji is still standing quite close to the door as it swings open, sending the poor young man brutally forward. The impact not only knocks Omi down to land roughly atop the now crushed delphiniums, but it also lands Youji right on top of both.
"Guys? Are you out he-" Ken stops mid-sentence, finally noticing his friends' predicament. His dark hair glistens with sweat from hauling so many supplies and cases of flowers inside, but ocean eyes beam past his slight fatigue at the humorous situation in front of him. "Did I...ah heh...interrupt something...?" he questions, every word littered with laughter as he struggles to contain himself.
His friends, after all, are in a rather compromising position.
Omi and Youji look at each other; up at Ken; at each other once more...and Youji suddenly bursts out laughing, not bothering to let Omi up.
"Urrg! Get off! It's NOT funny!" the poor boy shrieks, at last finding his voice as he labors to crawl out from under the figure on top of him. "That really hurt, Youji-kun! Do you have any idea how much you weigh?!"
Carefully, but teasingly slow, Youji pulls himself up, filled with slight indignation concerning that last remark, but still laughing heartilly along with Ken. Omi, on the other hand, glares daggers in their direction.
"Go ahead, laugh away! But *you* can be the ones to tell Aya-kun what happened to the flowers!"
They stop laughing.
"Come on, Omi. It *was* kinda funny." Ken tries.
"Besides..." Youji jumps in, dawning a sly smile. "You're just angry 'cause you wanted to be on top."
A shadow spreads across the younger boy's face, and Youji knows he's gone too far.
"Just joking, bishounen. You know I don't walk on *that* side of the street." he mends. "I only go for women. As long as they're over 18."
Omi seems a bit less frazzled, but his resolve hasn't changed. "You're still telling Aya-kun."
Youji makes a face, seeming about to retaliate, but Ken speaks first. "Where did Aya go, anyway?" the brunette questions, his nose crinkling in thought. "I haven't seen him since we got back."
"Probably in the storage room." Youji offers. "I'll go get him."
*****
Nothing could get to him. Nothing like *her*.
Amethyst-tinted navy hues the braided hair, and child-like eyes are forever questioning. The memory of a name he took and tainted for the money to spare a young life reminds him of the lives he brought to an end. She woke up - but to what? Her brother is long dead, buried in tears shed for her ageless beauty, and the man left behind is a hallow husk of regret and bitter heartache.
What can be taken back that was so willingly given away?
Fujimiya Ran stands before a towering shelf of potted plants, bags of dirt and fertilizer, and the remnants of lives that ended long before they began. Scarlett tendrils fall against skin so pale and lifeless only the spark in his violet eyes prove him more than a ghost. There are no more supplies to be packed away, no more flowers to label and store, nothing left at all, but the simple act of leaving the room.
Why, then, can Ran not take a single step?
(If I leave here...she'll find me...) he muses, his mind paralyzed with thought. (...she'll smile and hug my arm...believing me to be the same man. She'll think it's all as it was before...before she fell asleep for so long...before I stained the name I took...and lost all rights to my own. How can I face her again...? How...?)
"Oniichan...?" a timid voice beckons from behind him.
(No...not now...)
"Oniichan, what are you doing in here?"
(If I don't turn around...she'll go away...please, Aya...stay away...)
"Ran, what's wrong with you?"
(What's wrong? I can't pretend anymore, Aya, *that* is what's wrong. I can't be something I'm not, but I couldn't bare it if you knew the truth...if you knew what I was...)
A gentle hand is placed on his shoulder, urging him to answer his sister's anxious heart. "Oniichan...Ran...why won't you answer me? You barely stayed a day after I woke up, and now that you're back...you still..." he can hear the pain in her voice, feel her tears as if they were falling from his eyes alone. "...don't push me away...." she whispers. "I can't stand to be without you anymore..."
Feeling desperate arms encircle his waste, Ran knows his cherished imoto is clinging to a shadow, to a wretched darkness that veils the light she seeks.
(...I'm lost...in a world you can't be apart of...) he pines, remaining rigid and unmoving within her embrace. (...damn you...let go...let go before I destroy you, too...)
Aya cannot let go, but only holds him tighter, sobbing so wretchedly, he can feel the dampness of her tears soaking through the back of his shirt.
How long can someone bear to turn away when with all their heart they want to turn around?
"...Aya...." he speaks at last, a trembling hand reaching to cover her's. "...forgive me...I'm not...the man I once was..."
"...I know." comes her muffled reply. "Did you really think I didn't? I knew...I knew something strange was going on, especially after you left so suddenly."
Slowly, gently, Ran turns around, slipping from his sister's arms. His eyes are indeed as stained and damp as hers, with the same unbearable streaks against pale skin.
He had only wanted to protect her, to keep her safe. All those years of undue justice dealt. All those endless nights - he can never take back. One question shames it all so much more: Does she know what he has become?
"You...you can't possibly know..." he insists, speaking in a frantic whisper.
Aya looks up into her brother's urgent, anguished eyes. "A cozy, private room in a hospital, all mine for two years. That can add up pretty quickly, ne?" she states plainly, pushing her sorrows aside. "I know the flower shop does well, Oniichan, but not *that* well. You...you..."
She finds it difficult to press on, her brother's features becoming more stricken by the syllable, but she knows she must if she's to ever have him back again.
"...I know you've done some unthinkable things for my sake..." she continues, her eyes never once turning away from his. "When you left...I knew something had to be wrong. I had only just woken up, and...you could barely look at me. Sakura and I became friends so quickly, and I...I could see it in her eyes...she knew...she knew why you had been so cold to me..."
"Sakura told you?!" Ran snaps harshly, cutting his sister off. "She told you -"
"Nothing...I swear. It wouldn't matter to me anyway. Whatever you've done, you did it for me." Aya finishes, reaching out to grasp her brother's hand swiftly and firmly with her own.
At first, Ran desperately wants to pull away; run away; fly away - where his white soul tainted grey can finally turn black. He would have...had he been able to move.
"Oniichan...I don't care what you've done...I just want you to be my oniichan again..."
And suddenly, she is in his arms, being held *by* him as much as she is holding on.
Life and death are so nearly one in the same. They *are* the same, for the moment we begin to live we begin to die. It never ends. The ceaseless cycle of pain and suffering, a momentary lapse for us to collect ourselves in relief, and then back into the pits of Hell on Earth where all the world lives. Such truth can tear and shatter, but only in one another can we be put back together.
"...Aya...I'm so sorry I left you..."
"No, Oniichan. No..." comes the all too eager reply. "...I'm sorry I left *you*..."
Footsteps. Rushed and carefree footsteps sound down the hallway, approaching the storeroom far too quickly. Their tender moment is destined for interruption.
"Ran, for the record, it was not my fault." comes a voice, even before a familiar figure steps through the door. "...Oh. Sorry."
Youji has entered the confined space of the shop's back room, walking in abruptly without a thought at what he might find. Emerald eyes widen now in utter disbelief.
(Since when does Ran have a heart...?)
"Youji..." the red-head starts, faltering in his speech as he quickly slips from his sister's eager arms. Suddenly, the weight of his sins are no longer the easy burden he believed them to be. As if they could *ever* be such a thing.
(This is wrong...) he thinks bitterly. (...I'm a killer...a murderer...I can't...go back to her now...)
"What do you want, Youji?" Ran asks at last, his accustomed, icy edge infiltrating his tone once again. He has abandoned his sister's willingness to understand. It isn't enough.
(I guess it has to beat to be considered a heart...)
"We're ready to open the shop." Youji states matter-of-factly. "Wouldn't want to keep our adoring fans waiting. Especially considering our usual clientele."
Aya eyes both boys oddly as they speak to one another, sensing their evasiveness; curious at how each one seems to switch gears, accommodating the other's expectations. Her stubborn, Fujimiya mind reprimands her for staying silent, when she so desperately wants to scream. Was the tender moment between herself and her lost oniichan nothing but a flicker of a dream?
"We'll be right there." comes Ran's chilling voice. "And don't spend all day flirting, Kudo. This is a business. Sell something."
Youji smirks. Aya cringes. The scene before her is flawed. Surreal. Unfair.
"Be sure you mean that, *Ran*." Youji replies, stressing the often forgotten name. "I'll take you seriously."
It's funny how in the right tone of voice a joke can sound like a threat.
A sharp glare from Ran silences the blonde, and Youji steps back through the door obediently, tossing a wink over his shoulder at Aya-chan as he heads for the front.
Once again, they are alone.
If she hadn't consciously noticed the change in atmosphere, Aya would've forgotten to breathe. Such a presence cannot feasibly exist to cause such anxiety in a single breath.
"Ran, what is the matter with you?" Aya begins forcefully. "I thought...just now...urrhh! How can you turn away so quickly? Have you forgotten everything? How to smile? How to love? How to live? Look at me!"
Ran flinches miserably. (I can't bear this!) he screams within, unable to do as she asks.
Some tiny remnant of his former self had clawed and scratched its way back into his heart for that one moment while he held her. One moment. The image of Youji standing there in the doorway, truly aghast at seeing any sign of compassion or tenderness from their leader, cut the strings. A limp and lifeless puppet left to drag itself back into place.
(I have no right to give her hope.) Ran's thoughts continue, despite his sister's urgency. (Fujimiya Ran is dead! You should forget me, Aya. Who I am now will only bring you pain...)
"Ran, answer me!"
Wrenched from his brooding reverie, Ran turns, looking down at his sister without an ounce of expression. "You do not belong here, Aya."
"And where am I to go?" she replies, tears filling her eyes once again. "How can I leave you? You are not this robot standing in front of me! Forget what is pushing you away and become apart of my life again!"
"I can't! Don't you understand that!?!" Ran booms, control lost as his voice fills the room with sudden malice and blind rage. "Your brother died with your parents that night! He died by your bedside every night for two years! Damn, can't you see?!"
He speaks without thinking, slowly backing his sister against the wall as his vicious words fly from tongues of fire. Aya's eyes are wide and flooded with tears. She cannot raise her voice to stop him, but worse, he cannot stop himself, even as he grabs his sister's delicate wrists, forcing her roughly into the wall.
"I have no right to hold you in my arms the way I did! I have no right to smile! To hell with forgetting! I have no right to love, or live, or breathe, or even feel anymore! You want your brother back?! Then look at what he's become! I am this wretched beast because of you!!"
The boundaries of fear have faded; a barren valley of shadows leaving visions of undistorted terror to claw at the skin of innocence.
Aya and Ran have become stone, neither capable of movement. The distant, fading call of Ran's rage deafens him, and he cannot even bring himself to loosen his grip on his sister's wrists. Surely they are pulsing with pain.
(What am I saying...? How could I...)
"What the hell is going on in here?! Ran...what are you doing...?"
Ran remains a sculpture, watching his sister's eyes look sharply towards the door at the owner of that urgent voice. He can see the reflection of a startled young man shaming him from within those orbs of undue fear.
Ken.
"Ran, what are you doing?" the brunette repeats sternly, cautiously entering the room. "Let her go. Can't you see you're hurting her...?"
Aya still hasn't spoken, mute from disbelief. Everything Ran said was the truth, and all that is left is a false fantasy she can never reclaim. Ran is gone - buried in frozen ashes and metal tears - because she fell asleep...and dreamed him away.
Abruptly, Ran frees Aya from his crushing hold, stepping back with eerily blank features his sister cannot bear to look at. (The man I am now can never again be the man she wants back. If I let her know how much I wish I could...wipe away those tears...drive away her suffering...no! If she knew, she would never stop trying to get me back...)
"Oniichan..." Aya's broken voice whispers, but Ran will not allow her to change his mind. Not now. Not ever. In his own misguided view of the man he has become, nothing of his humanity is left to be worth saving.
"There is work to do." the red-head declares in a dead, unnerving tone. It is all he can bring himself to say.
Watching him achingly as Ran sweeps past Ken and out of the room, Aya's heart tears in a million places, into a million broken shards, collapsing her to the ground from sheer grief.
"Aya!" Ken calls, rushing to her side. He is used to Ran's cold demeaner, but *this*, this he cannot understand. "Aya, what happened? What did he say to you?"
Angel tears of bitter crystal pour down her face, and her voice is difficult to find. "...only the truth, Ken-niisan..." she whimpers pitifully. "...I've lost him..."
*****
It was lost to him. The youth and laughter of days long past, all lost in a horrid screech of tires and the rancid smell of rubber. The memory would never desert him.
Swept up in the pull of routine, Ran vaguely dusts a pot of orchids with his spray bottle, treating them with tender care. He knows the others are following his movements, whispering in curious voices about the incident with Aya.
Ken had spent only a few moments in consolation with the grief-stricken girl, before her countenance unexpectedly changed.
(I can't give up...not after everything that's happened...) she had thought with increasing determination. (If Ran chooses to act the part of the cruel, malicious sinner, then I'll play my part, too. I *will* get my oniichan back, whatever the cost...)
Resolute, she had stood from the floor of the storeroom, and walked to the front of the shop with dried and fading tears on her cheeks. Somehow, Ken understood and followed suit, struggling to overcome his hot-headed tendencies and leave the matter where it stood:
Aya and Ran had to get through this on their own, however Fate chose to lead them.
Now, the shop welcomes customers with doors wide open, while a crew of uneasy florists cloak their true feelings with what everyone else expects to find. Nothing out of the ordinary...
"Ohaiyo, minna-san! You're back!"
Tomoe Sakura bounds through the shop doors, a bright smile stretching the length of her face. With light brown hair kept short since cutting it after Aya's awakening, Sakura is so much more her old self again. Carefree and genuine; the only one for miles.
"How was your trip?" she continues, leaning against the main counter as everyone save Ran comes over to say hello. "You were gone for months, ne? Anything exciting happen?"
(Just faced off against the American Army.) Youji thinks slyly, but figures he better not say so out loud.
"Being away from such a beautiful, young woman for so long, how could anything be exciting?" the blonde grins, wrapping his arm loosely around Sakura's shoulders.
"Careful, Yotan, Sakura-chan's not 18 *yet*." Aya states gleefully, conveniently her merry self as well.
Sweeping the floor far away from the group, Ran takes comfort in his sister's tone. As long as she is happy, he can be at peace...in some form. Ironically, her thoughts mirror his own, and she wears her mask well in hopes of defying the fate he has chosen for himself.
An imoto can be so terribly stubborn sometimes.
"Ran-niisan, aren't you going to say hello?"
It is the imoto in question who interrupts the red-head's thoughts, as he looks up from his sweeping with a dead-panned expression. "Ohaiyo, Sakura." he replies plainly, not bothering to pause in his work.
(What's with him today...?) Sakura thinks curiously. (I thought Aya-kun was becoming more open with everyone. Well, I know how to cheer this place up...)
"So, aren't you all excited about the new shop?" she asks, cleverly changing the subject.
"What new shop, Sakura-chan?" Omi inquires, placing a pot of tulips in the front window.
"The one right across the street, of course." she answers matter-of-factly. "Didn't you notice?"
Ken steps over to the window, peering out. "But that building's been empty for years."
His gaze passes over the newly painted walls and freshly trimmed windows of an old, two story shop, very similar to theirs. None of them had noticed the change, but grey siding was now a pale yellow; welcoming and beautiful.
"I think whoever's opening that shop is playing a joke on you." Sakura adds.
"What do you mean?" Aya questions, walking up to the window beside Ken.
Sakura smiles warmly. "Just look at the sign in front. It's quite a coincidence."
By now, everyone, including stoic Fujimiya Ran, stands in front of the large shop window to get a clear look at the building across the street. In front of it is a brightly painted sign.
"Coffee and gift shop opening tomorrow," Ken reads aloud. "Kitten's Cafe?"
"How cute!" Aya exclaims. "I wonder if it's on purpose......?"
"Wouldn't that be fun?" an excited Youji comments. "Could it be our evil twins?"
"Doubtful, Youji-kun." Omi states simply, nudging the blonde in the side. "We're not interesting enough to clone."
"Speak for yourself, little boy." Youji replies with a look. "But I wonder who *is* opening that shop."
Ran's thoughts stir as he steps away from the window, leaving the others to their conversation. (Who indeed...? I have a strange feeling about this...)
*****
"There is an odd feeling in the air about this..."
"We can't wait any longer. Weiss has returned, and Schwartz is on the move."
"It's about time anyway! I'll turn into a fossil if we don't do something soon!"
"And I can't wait to meet them all. It'll be so much fun!"
"Fun? Don't you two ever think about these things logically? We have a mission to complete, if you recall?"
"We certainly do, but don't give them such a hard time. I'm just as anxious to begin myself."
"Do you really think we'll be able to pull this off?"
"Of course we will, silly! It's our destiny...right?"
"Destiny has nothing to do with it. It is simply something we must do."
"Well said, my friend, and we are finally ready to fulfill it. It is time for Weiss and Schwartz to meet their end - through the calling of the wind - Fluesternd."
*****A/N*****I hope you like this so far, because it is only the beginning. There are 20 total chapters, and I plan to post one every day, or every other day, until it is finished. Please, continue reading this. Also, reviews are always welcome. :-)
*****1*****
Wake up.
In one way or another Fate is destined to royally screw you over. If you're not prepared to fight back, you'll get driven right into the ground. After all, even a golden shovel falters when digging a fallen angel out of Hell. Nevertheless, there is still one, universal, all saving truth:
Hope.
Hope never dies. It lies in waiting to make its move, suffocating the disbeliever, the persistent pessimist, and it always gains the upper hand if allowed enough room to breathe. Form, however, is never universal. Hope has more configurations than the world has false deities.
Open your eyes.
Hope will appear, whether it strikes you as a song, a scream, a trembling thunder, or the soft, sweet call......of......whispering......
*****
Delicate and nimble fingers ache across the keyboard, droning out an endless song that will haunt the owner's dreams if he continues playing the tune...
Click. Pound. Click, click, click. How he wishes to be rid of the dreadful, empty echo.
No such luck, unfortunately; he has a job to do.
(What will be the end of this......) Young Naoe Nagi wonders. (He keeps giving me orders - do this, do that - but never tells me why. Why do you keep everything to yourself, Brad? When will it end.....?)
"You're not supposed to care, kid. Remember?"
Nagi grimaces, his marred reflection bouncing back at him from the computer screen. "Stop looking inside my head, Schuldrich." he replies dryly. "Don't you have your own job to do?"
A tall red-head steps from the shadows of the far wall, grinning like the Cheshire Cat; a sly creature who slinks about, tormenting the innocent. Jade eyes glow with an inhuman radiance, dancing to the click-clack rhythm of the keys still typing away, though Nagi has taken his hands from the keyboard.
"Why do you even bother doing it manually at all?" Schuldrich asks, humored by the thought. "You're just another freak like the rest of us. Trying to forget that won't take it away." he pauses to laugh, and Nagi shudders inwardly, feeling much like the student who cringes at their teacher's nails raking across the chalkboard. "You'd like it to go away, wouldn't you...? Huh, kid?"
(Kid, kid, kid! I have a name!)
"You ask me the same question everyday." Large eyes flick up as Nagi speaks, though he refuses to turn towards his companion. "Aren't you tired of the same answer? I want *you* to go away. Leave me alone. Walk around in someone else's mind for a change."
Another scratch on the blackboard. "I'd rather stick with yours. There's always something new inside to surprise me."
Schuldrich has been advancing on the boy by the computer screen, standing just behind him now, and thin lips curl back to grin again, widely, as long arms wrap in a false, motherly way around Nagi's narrow shoulders.
The red-head bends down, those twisted lips whispering into the boy's ear. "Any juicy details on your idiot aijin to share, or haven't you taken a go at it yet?"
Immediately, Schuldrich begins to feel a throbbing in his arms, as if someone is physically trying to pry them away, and suddenly he is tossed back, nearly toppling over, though Nagi hasn't moved an inch.
"Toto is not an idiot...and I will NEVER share any part of her with you..." the small boy's words quiver up and down, laced with acidic tone. "If you even *think* of speaking about her that way again- "
"You'll what?" Schuldrich asks smugly, steadying his footing. "You'll throw me into a wall? Rip my limbs from my body without even lifting a finger, the way you're just sitting in that chair now? What, Nagi? Tell me what you'll do?"
The air is stale, thick, and impossible to breathe. A world cut off from time and space instantly becomes far too small.
Nagi has turned in his chair, watching the red-head hatefully, and Schuldrich can feel the energy surging through the room, bouncing off the constellations on the walls. He smiles. A thousand nails on a hundred chalkboards could not replicate the shuddering impact of laughter filling the room.
(Stop it........stop.......) Nagi screams silently, petrified in place as his mind continues to fight off the growing grip of both unsteady powers struggling for the upper hand.
"Enough!"
Like a cord cut, a new voice shatters the building tension, and Nagi can almost see the shards of cosmic glass hitting the floor as his mind breathes relief.
A rigid figure steps into the room, blinding them with the light that emanates from beyond the doorway. He is taller than Schuldrich, taller by just enough to make him appear that much more threatening. His hair is dark - perfect - and his bronzed eyes glare with authority from behind a pair of black frames.
"Schuldrich, I've warned you before about-"
"Yeah, yeah. 'Don't mess around with something you can't completely control'." the red-head interrupts, mocking the newcomer's tone with a familiar saying. "I know the lecture, Bradley. Can't I ever have a little fun?"
Brad Crawford folds his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at Schuldrich as if preparing to punish a small child.
"It's just as much my fault, Crawford." Nagi breaks in, before Brad can reply to the red-head's impudence. "I don't know enough about my abilities to use them so foolishly. I'm sorry."
(There's that youth talking again, kid. We never signed any contract ordering compassion, you know?)
Nagi flinches at Schuldrich's message, but ignores it. He could never lie to Brad. Compassion has nothing to do with it.
"You should both know better." their leader growls, dropping his arms to the side. "Or would you prefer to destroy each other before we reach our goal?"
Nagi hangs his head in thought at those brutal words. (Maybe if we knew fully what that goal is......)
(Don't forget I can hear you, Naoe.)
The young boy pushes his thoughts of doubt away in a heartbeat. What Schu hears, Schu tells.
"Are you listening to me?!"
Schuldrich and Nagi's heads jerk up at Brad's harsh voice.
"I will not have either of you damaging our work when we are so close," he continues. "With the last pieces now in place, we're nearly ready to...uh..." a sudden jolt causes him to trail off, his gaze going blank.
The others look to each other without saying a word, and Schu nods knowingly. They wait in silence for Brad to find his way back, signaled by another slight convulsion which throws him somewhat off balance.
"What did you see?" Schuldrich asks flatly, once Brad has regained himself.
Eager with curiosity, Nagi's eyes widen in wait for the answer. A reflexed prayer flutters through the boy's mind, begging for the premonition of an end...some end...any end...to their plight.
"Get Farfarello." Brad commands in reply to Schu's question. "There is a new threat."
*****
There is a new beginning. Spring flourishes through the land; pastel flowers, warmer weather, and the constant tweet and buzz of revived life. Shadows and clouds of thickening grey rage and grow in the distance, but that can be forgotten, for sunlight glitters down on a humble flower shop defiant against the approaching storm.
Light can be so terribly stubborn.
A weathered mobile home is parked in the alley just behind the shop, and all its doors stand ajar as it waits to be fully unloaded after a long, ceaseless journey.
"I hate getting the last batch! The biggest boxes are always on the bottom."
This annoyed and slightly high-pitched voice has come from a diminutive, teenage boy, with golden strands of hair wisping into his brilliant, cobalt eyes as he stomps his foot in defeat.
"Omi, with spaghetti noodle arms like that, you might as well give up while you're ahead." jokes the boy's slightly older friend, who towers nearly half a foot taller. "Leave this grunt work to the real men, bishounen. Wouldn't want to roughen up that soft skin."
He laughs heartily at his own joke, but frustrated, young Tsukiyono Omi most definitely doesn't find the humor. "Baka! I'd like to see you do some actual manual labor for a change, Youji-kun!"
Kudo Youji, with wild, sandy hair pulled back loosly from his face, gives no hint of leaving his perch against the back door to the shop. He only smirks, taking a long drag from his ever-present cigarette. "Already unpacked." he replies, emerald eyes shimmering. "I think I deserve a little R 'n' R."
Omi grunts with disapproval, turning to face his companion sharply. "You've had nothing *but* R 'n' R since you first learned how to spell it!"
Another puff of smoke escapes smiling lips. "Never cared much for spelling really. School, the three R's; all rubbish. I prefer the three S's myself: Sex - sex -..." Puff. Puff. "...and cigarettes."
The younger boy groans audibly, returning his attention to the white, cardboard case that is giving him such a headache. It is filled with sweet-smelling, violet flowers, the last bunch left to be stored inside the shop, and it is nearly half the size of the boy himself.
(I can do this...I *can* do this...) Omi chants internally, stretching his arms around the box's base.
"All the money in the world says you fall flat on your cute, little behind after one step." Youji kids, watching as Omi prepares to hoist the case from the RV.
Omi pays no mind, though, determined to get that last batch of flowers inside...one way or another. He steadies himself, takes a deep breath, and hoists the case fully into his arms. Nodding in slight admiration, Youji is surprised the boy managed to lift the box at all, but he won't get much time to savor the thought. As Omi attempts to turn around, he quickly looses his footing and begins backpedaling away from the vehicle...right towards a certain blonde-haired ladies' man.
Luckily for Youji, his unfortunate friend loses balance completely *before* ramming into him. Realizing what is about to happen, he takes a quick step forward to catch the stumbling boy, and although his cigarette drops in the process, Omi lands safely in his outstretched arms.
"Told you so." he declares merrily.
"Hey, do you guys need any help out here?" calls a sudden voice from just behind the door.
"Ken, no!"
Too late.
Youji is still standing quite close to the door as it swings open, sending the poor young man brutally forward. The impact not only knocks Omi down to land roughly atop the now crushed delphiniums, but it also lands Youji right on top of both.
"Guys? Are you out he-" Ken stops mid-sentence, finally noticing his friends' predicament. His dark hair glistens with sweat from hauling so many supplies and cases of flowers inside, but ocean eyes beam past his slight fatigue at the humorous situation in front of him. "Did I...ah heh...interrupt something...?" he questions, every word littered with laughter as he struggles to contain himself.
His friends, after all, are in a rather compromising position.
Omi and Youji look at each other; up at Ken; at each other once more...and Youji suddenly bursts out laughing, not bothering to let Omi up.
"Urrg! Get off! It's NOT funny!" the poor boy shrieks, at last finding his voice as he labors to crawl out from under the figure on top of him. "That really hurt, Youji-kun! Do you have any idea how much you weigh?!"
Carefully, but teasingly slow, Youji pulls himself up, filled with slight indignation concerning that last remark, but still laughing heartilly along with Ken. Omi, on the other hand, glares daggers in their direction.
"Go ahead, laugh away! But *you* can be the ones to tell Aya-kun what happened to the flowers!"
They stop laughing.
"Come on, Omi. It *was* kinda funny." Ken tries.
"Besides..." Youji jumps in, dawning a sly smile. "You're just angry 'cause you wanted to be on top."
A shadow spreads across the younger boy's face, and Youji knows he's gone too far.
"Just joking, bishounen. You know I don't walk on *that* side of the street." he mends. "I only go for women. As long as they're over 18."
Omi seems a bit less frazzled, but his resolve hasn't changed. "You're still telling Aya-kun."
Youji makes a face, seeming about to retaliate, but Ken speaks first. "Where did Aya go, anyway?" the brunette questions, his nose crinkling in thought. "I haven't seen him since we got back."
"Probably in the storage room." Youji offers. "I'll go get him."
*****
Nothing could get to him. Nothing like *her*.
Amethyst-tinted navy hues the braided hair, and child-like eyes are forever questioning. The memory of a name he took and tainted for the money to spare a young life reminds him of the lives he brought to an end. She woke up - but to what? Her brother is long dead, buried in tears shed for her ageless beauty, and the man left behind is a hallow husk of regret and bitter heartache.
What can be taken back that was so willingly given away?
Fujimiya Ran stands before a towering shelf of potted plants, bags of dirt and fertilizer, and the remnants of lives that ended long before they began. Scarlett tendrils fall against skin so pale and lifeless only the spark in his violet eyes prove him more than a ghost. There are no more supplies to be packed away, no more flowers to label and store, nothing left at all, but the simple act of leaving the room.
Why, then, can Ran not take a single step?
(If I leave here...she'll find me...) he muses, his mind paralyzed with thought. (...she'll smile and hug my arm...believing me to be the same man. She'll think it's all as it was before...before she fell asleep for so long...before I stained the name I took...and lost all rights to my own. How can I face her again...? How...?)
"Oniichan...?" a timid voice beckons from behind him.
(No...not now...)
"Oniichan, what are you doing in here?"
(If I don't turn around...she'll go away...please, Aya...stay away...)
"Ran, what's wrong with you?"
(What's wrong? I can't pretend anymore, Aya, *that* is what's wrong. I can't be something I'm not, but I couldn't bare it if you knew the truth...if you knew what I was...)
A gentle hand is placed on his shoulder, urging him to answer his sister's anxious heart. "Oniichan...Ran...why won't you answer me? You barely stayed a day after I woke up, and now that you're back...you still..." he can hear the pain in her voice, feel her tears as if they were falling from his eyes alone. "...don't push me away...." she whispers. "I can't stand to be without you anymore..."
Feeling desperate arms encircle his waste, Ran knows his cherished imoto is clinging to a shadow, to a wretched darkness that veils the light she seeks.
(...I'm lost...in a world you can't be apart of...) he pines, remaining rigid and unmoving within her embrace. (...damn you...let go...let go before I destroy you, too...)
Aya cannot let go, but only holds him tighter, sobbing so wretchedly, he can feel the dampness of her tears soaking through the back of his shirt.
How long can someone bear to turn away when with all their heart they want to turn around?
"...Aya...." he speaks at last, a trembling hand reaching to cover her's. "...forgive me...I'm not...the man I once was..."
"...I know." comes her muffled reply. "Did you really think I didn't? I knew...I knew something strange was going on, especially after you left so suddenly."
Slowly, gently, Ran turns around, slipping from his sister's arms. His eyes are indeed as stained and damp as hers, with the same unbearable streaks against pale skin.
He had only wanted to protect her, to keep her safe. All those years of undue justice dealt. All those endless nights - he can never take back. One question shames it all so much more: Does she know what he has become?
"You...you can't possibly know..." he insists, speaking in a frantic whisper.
Aya looks up into her brother's urgent, anguished eyes. "A cozy, private room in a hospital, all mine for two years. That can add up pretty quickly, ne?" she states plainly, pushing her sorrows aside. "I know the flower shop does well, Oniichan, but not *that* well. You...you..."
She finds it difficult to press on, her brother's features becoming more stricken by the syllable, but she knows she must if she's to ever have him back again.
"...I know you've done some unthinkable things for my sake..." she continues, her eyes never once turning away from his. "When you left...I knew something had to be wrong. I had only just woken up, and...you could barely look at me. Sakura and I became friends so quickly, and I...I could see it in her eyes...she knew...she knew why you had been so cold to me..."
"Sakura told you?!" Ran snaps harshly, cutting his sister off. "She told you -"
"Nothing...I swear. It wouldn't matter to me anyway. Whatever you've done, you did it for me." Aya finishes, reaching out to grasp her brother's hand swiftly and firmly with her own.
At first, Ran desperately wants to pull away; run away; fly away - where his white soul tainted grey can finally turn black. He would have...had he been able to move.
"Oniichan...I don't care what you've done...I just want you to be my oniichan again..."
And suddenly, she is in his arms, being held *by* him as much as she is holding on.
Life and death are so nearly one in the same. They *are* the same, for the moment we begin to live we begin to die. It never ends. The ceaseless cycle of pain and suffering, a momentary lapse for us to collect ourselves in relief, and then back into the pits of Hell on Earth where all the world lives. Such truth can tear and shatter, but only in one another can we be put back together.
"...Aya...I'm so sorry I left you..."
"No, Oniichan. No..." comes the all too eager reply. "...I'm sorry I left *you*..."
Footsteps. Rushed and carefree footsteps sound down the hallway, approaching the storeroom far too quickly. Their tender moment is destined for interruption.
"Ran, for the record, it was not my fault." comes a voice, even before a familiar figure steps through the door. "...Oh. Sorry."
Youji has entered the confined space of the shop's back room, walking in abruptly without a thought at what he might find. Emerald eyes widen now in utter disbelief.
(Since when does Ran have a heart...?)
"Youji..." the red-head starts, faltering in his speech as he quickly slips from his sister's eager arms. Suddenly, the weight of his sins are no longer the easy burden he believed them to be. As if they could *ever* be such a thing.
(This is wrong...) he thinks bitterly. (...I'm a killer...a murderer...I can't...go back to her now...)
"What do you want, Youji?" Ran asks at last, his accustomed, icy edge infiltrating his tone once again. He has abandoned his sister's willingness to understand. It isn't enough.
(I guess it has to beat to be considered a heart...)
"We're ready to open the shop." Youji states matter-of-factly. "Wouldn't want to keep our adoring fans waiting. Especially considering our usual clientele."
Aya eyes both boys oddly as they speak to one another, sensing their evasiveness; curious at how each one seems to switch gears, accommodating the other's expectations. Her stubborn, Fujimiya mind reprimands her for staying silent, when she so desperately wants to scream. Was the tender moment between herself and her lost oniichan nothing but a flicker of a dream?
"We'll be right there." comes Ran's chilling voice. "And don't spend all day flirting, Kudo. This is a business. Sell something."
Youji smirks. Aya cringes. The scene before her is flawed. Surreal. Unfair.
"Be sure you mean that, *Ran*." Youji replies, stressing the often forgotten name. "I'll take you seriously."
It's funny how in the right tone of voice a joke can sound like a threat.
A sharp glare from Ran silences the blonde, and Youji steps back through the door obediently, tossing a wink over his shoulder at Aya-chan as he heads for the front.
Once again, they are alone.
If she hadn't consciously noticed the change in atmosphere, Aya would've forgotten to breathe. Such a presence cannot feasibly exist to cause such anxiety in a single breath.
"Ran, what is the matter with you?" Aya begins forcefully. "I thought...just now...urrhh! How can you turn away so quickly? Have you forgotten everything? How to smile? How to love? How to live? Look at me!"
Ran flinches miserably. (I can't bear this!) he screams within, unable to do as she asks.
Some tiny remnant of his former self had clawed and scratched its way back into his heart for that one moment while he held her. One moment. The image of Youji standing there in the doorway, truly aghast at seeing any sign of compassion or tenderness from their leader, cut the strings. A limp and lifeless puppet left to drag itself back into place.
(I have no right to give her hope.) Ran's thoughts continue, despite his sister's urgency. (Fujimiya Ran is dead! You should forget me, Aya. Who I am now will only bring you pain...)
"Ran, answer me!"
Wrenched from his brooding reverie, Ran turns, looking down at his sister without an ounce of expression. "You do not belong here, Aya."
"And where am I to go?" she replies, tears filling her eyes once again. "How can I leave you? You are not this robot standing in front of me! Forget what is pushing you away and become apart of my life again!"
"I can't! Don't you understand that!?!" Ran booms, control lost as his voice fills the room with sudden malice and blind rage. "Your brother died with your parents that night! He died by your bedside every night for two years! Damn, can't you see?!"
He speaks without thinking, slowly backing his sister against the wall as his vicious words fly from tongues of fire. Aya's eyes are wide and flooded with tears. She cannot raise her voice to stop him, but worse, he cannot stop himself, even as he grabs his sister's delicate wrists, forcing her roughly into the wall.
"I have no right to hold you in my arms the way I did! I have no right to smile! To hell with forgetting! I have no right to love, or live, or breathe, or even feel anymore! You want your brother back?! Then look at what he's become! I am this wretched beast because of you!!"
The boundaries of fear have faded; a barren valley of shadows leaving visions of undistorted terror to claw at the skin of innocence.
Aya and Ran have become stone, neither capable of movement. The distant, fading call of Ran's rage deafens him, and he cannot even bring himself to loosen his grip on his sister's wrists. Surely they are pulsing with pain.
(What am I saying...? How could I...)
"What the hell is going on in here?! Ran...what are you doing...?"
Ran remains a sculpture, watching his sister's eyes look sharply towards the door at the owner of that urgent voice. He can see the reflection of a startled young man shaming him from within those orbs of undue fear.
Ken.
"Ran, what are you doing?" the brunette repeats sternly, cautiously entering the room. "Let her go. Can't you see you're hurting her...?"
Aya still hasn't spoken, mute from disbelief. Everything Ran said was the truth, and all that is left is a false fantasy she can never reclaim. Ran is gone - buried in frozen ashes and metal tears - because she fell asleep...and dreamed him away.
Abruptly, Ran frees Aya from his crushing hold, stepping back with eerily blank features his sister cannot bear to look at. (The man I am now can never again be the man she wants back. If I let her know how much I wish I could...wipe away those tears...drive away her suffering...no! If she knew, she would never stop trying to get me back...)
"Oniichan..." Aya's broken voice whispers, but Ran will not allow her to change his mind. Not now. Not ever. In his own misguided view of the man he has become, nothing of his humanity is left to be worth saving.
"There is work to do." the red-head declares in a dead, unnerving tone. It is all he can bring himself to say.
Watching him achingly as Ran sweeps past Ken and out of the room, Aya's heart tears in a million places, into a million broken shards, collapsing her to the ground from sheer grief.
"Aya!" Ken calls, rushing to her side. He is used to Ran's cold demeaner, but *this*, this he cannot understand. "Aya, what happened? What did he say to you?"
Angel tears of bitter crystal pour down her face, and her voice is difficult to find. "...only the truth, Ken-niisan..." she whimpers pitifully. "...I've lost him..."
*****
It was lost to him. The youth and laughter of days long past, all lost in a horrid screech of tires and the rancid smell of rubber. The memory would never desert him.
Swept up in the pull of routine, Ran vaguely dusts a pot of orchids with his spray bottle, treating them with tender care. He knows the others are following his movements, whispering in curious voices about the incident with Aya.
Ken had spent only a few moments in consolation with the grief-stricken girl, before her countenance unexpectedly changed.
(I can't give up...not after everything that's happened...) she had thought with increasing determination. (If Ran chooses to act the part of the cruel, malicious sinner, then I'll play my part, too. I *will* get my oniichan back, whatever the cost...)
Resolute, she had stood from the floor of the storeroom, and walked to the front of the shop with dried and fading tears on her cheeks. Somehow, Ken understood and followed suit, struggling to overcome his hot-headed tendencies and leave the matter where it stood:
Aya and Ran had to get through this on their own, however Fate chose to lead them.
Now, the shop welcomes customers with doors wide open, while a crew of uneasy florists cloak their true feelings with what everyone else expects to find. Nothing out of the ordinary...
"Ohaiyo, minna-san! You're back!"
Tomoe Sakura bounds through the shop doors, a bright smile stretching the length of her face. With light brown hair kept short since cutting it after Aya's awakening, Sakura is so much more her old self again. Carefree and genuine; the only one for miles.
"How was your trip?" she continues, leaning against the main counter as everyone save Ran comes over to say hello. "You were gone for months, ne? Anything exciting happen?"
(Just faced off against the American Army.) Youji thinks slyly, but figures he better not say so out loud.
"Being away from such a beautiful, young woman for so long, how could anything be exciting?" the blonde grins, wrapping his arm loosely around Sakura's shoulders.
"Careful, Yotan, Sakura-chan's not 18 *yet*." Aya states gleefully, conveniently her merry self as well.
Sweeping the floor far away from the group, Ran takes comfort in his sister's tone. As long as she is happy, he can be at peace...in some form. Ironically, her thoughts mirror his own, and she wears her mask well in hopes of defying the fate he has chosen for himself.
An imoto can be so terribly stubborn sometimes.
"Ran-niisan, aren't you going to say hello?"
It is the imoto in question who interrupts the red-head's thoughts, as he looks up from his sweeping with a dead-panned expression. "Ohaiyo, Sakura." he replies plainly, not bothering to pause in his work.
(What's with him today...?) Sakura thinks curiously. (I thought Aya-kun was becoming more open with everyone. Well, I know how to cheer this place up...)
"So, aren't you all excited about the new shop?" she asks, cleverly changing the subject.
"What new shop, Sakura-chan?" Omi inquires, placing a pot of tulips in the front window.
"The one right across the street, of course." she answers matter-of-factly. "Didn't you notice?"
Ken steps over to the window, peering out. "But that building's been empty for years."
His gaze passes over the newly painted walls and freshly trimmed windows of an old, two story shop, very similar to theirs. None of them had noticed the change, but grey siding was now a pale yellow; welcoming and beautiful.
"I think whoever's opening that shop is playing a joke on you." Sakura adds.
"What do you mean?" Aya questions, walking up to the window beside Ken.
Sakura smiles warmly. "Just look at the sign in front. It's quite a coincidence."
By now, everyone, including stoic Fujimiya Ran, stands in front of the large shop window to get a clear look at the building across the street. In front of it is a brightly painted sign.
"Coffee and gift shop opening tomorrow," Ken reads aloud. "Kitten's Cafe?"
"How cute!" Aya exclaims. "I wonder if it's on purpose......?"
"Wouldn't that be fun?" an excited Youji comments. "Could it be our evil twins?"
"Doubtful, Youji-kun." Omi states simply, nudging the blonde in the side. "We're not interesting enough to clone."
"Speak for yourself, little boy." Youji replies with a look. "But I wonder who *is* opening that shop."
Ran's thoughts stir as he steps away from the window, leaving the others to their conversation. (Who indeed...? I have a strange feeling about this...)
*****
"There is an odd feeling in the air about this..."
"We can't wait any longer. Weiss has returned, and Schwartz is on the move."
"It's about time anyway! I'll turn into a fossil if we don't do something soon!"
"And I can't wait to meet them all. It'll be so much fun!"
"Fun? Don't you two ever think about these things logically? We have a mission to complete, if you recall?"
"We certainly do, but don't give them such a hard time. I'm just as anxious to begin myself."
"Do you really think we'll be able to pull this off?"
"Of course we will, silly! It's our destiny...right?"
"Destiny has nothing to do with it. It is simply something we must do."
"Well said, my friend, and we are finally ready to fulfill it. It is time for Weiss and Schwartz to meet their end - through the calling of the wind - Fluesternd."
*****A/N*****I hope you like this so far, because it is only the beginning. There are 20 total chapters, and I plan to post one every day, or every other day, until it is finished. Please, continue reading this. Also, reviews are always welcome. :-)
