Pet
A/N: I haven't written any WK for a while. This came to me in the middle of last night. It could be unrequited Nagi/Mamoru or it could be gen with emotional messed up Nagi. Up to you.
Warnings:... can't think of any. no swearing, no smut, not much angst or fluff. Reference to eating disorders?
Disclaimers: The characters of Weiss Kreuz do not belong to me, and I'm making no money from this.
Nagi wasn't even aware he was being followed until he checked his reflection in a shop window across the street and recognised someone else there. Had it been anyone else he still wouldn't have been aware, but he knew this person too well for any coincidence.
He didn't break pace, but his face showed his surprise. He couldn't begin to imagine why Mamoru Takatori might be following him. If he'd forgotten something, Mamoru would have come and told him. It was a long walk back to his apartment for Nagi, and he'd left the Kritiker building almost an hour ago. If Mamoru wanted to know where he lived, he could have found him with a little hacking. Nagi preferred to keep his small place a secret, but his bank demanded addresses so it would be possible to track him down just from the Kritiker payroll. Of course that would be a lot of work, but for Mamoru it would just be challenging, and far easier than following him home.
It occurred to Nagi that perhaps that was the reason his employer was following him: the challenge. He was certainly good at it. And then it occurred to Nagi that perhaps it would be challenging to shake such a dogged pursuer. Something he hadn't had to do for a long time. And besides, he wasn't particularly happy with the idea that Mamoru might actually see where he lived. It was a principal thing.
Nagi was convinced he'd lost Mamoru in the all night market, and then again in the warehouses. He darted through the abandoned commercial buildings, leftovers from a building boom barely a decade ago when Japan thought its businesses would never stop growing. He dodged through dark alleys as only a telekinetic could; barely aware of how late it was getting and how far from home he was taking his tail.
Nagi hopped the fence to a large deserted park. Mamoru was playing with him, and it was beginning to grate. The older boy obviously knew he'd been spotted now. Every time Nagi thought it was safe to head home he'd catch a glimpse of him again. A glimpse he was meant to catch. He wandered through the park until he found a bench in a wide clear area. He would wait him out. After an hour, two at the outside, Mamoru would get bored and go home. If there was actually some reason behind all this he would come and talk to Nagi.
It was cold, the air was damp, the bench was uncomfortable and Nagi was asleep when Mamoru squeezed his leg gently. All facts hit Nagi simultaneously and he stared around blankly.
"You fell asleep," Mamoru said softly.
"Oh." Nagi ran a hand through his hair. "How long?"
"I don't know. You slumped forwards about twenty minutes ago, but you probably nodded off before that."
"What time is it?"
"About three AM," Mamoru said apologetically. "This... got a little out of hand."
Nagi smiled weakly at him. "If you hadn't been you I'd have had no idea I was being followed," he told him. "Where you testing yourself?"
"Sort of," Mamoru said hesitantly. "I was more interested in evading the notice of people like Rex than I was yours."
"Running away?" Nagi asked, one corner of his mouth twisting and his eyes glinting wickedly. Mamoru laughed softly at the look.
"A little," he admitted. "I miss my freedom. I miss doing things for myself."
"So why did you follow me?" Nagi asked. He was growing slowly more aware that Mamoru's hand was still resting on his leg.
"Well, once I was comfortable that no one was following me," and Mamoru laughed at himself as he said this, "it occurred to me to stretch my rusty skills even further. And, well, I'd always wondered... do you sleep?" He laughed louder, but the silence of the park frowned on the outburst of gaiety and Mamoru's voice died awkwardly.
"And now you know," Nagi said, frowning at him. "Honestly, what did you think?"
"It was just idle curiosity," Mamoru said defensively. "I was feeling a little light headed and it seemed like a silly enough quest to keep me entertained."
"I'm human," Nagi said, voice still chilly. "Like you."
"You're more than that-"
"No, I'm not," Nagi cut in over Mamoru's slightly awed tones. "I'm human. Completely human."
"You're the next step in the evolutionary chain," Mamoru told him, keeping his tone placating. "You have powers I can't even imagine. Is it another sense or an extension of what you already have? You keep yourself so aloof. You know you're better than everyone else."
"I'm not," Nagi said in strangled tones. "I'm just like everyone else. I'm just human. I sleep, I eat, I bleed... I never wanted it. It's just a thing, like being good a hacking, a talent. It's a muscle that's strong because I've used it. It's a sense most people don't have. You're just all blind and deaf."
Mamoru took his hand off Nagi's leg and slid it across his shoulders. "Why don't you want to be different?" he said softly.
Nagi shot him a cold look. "Do you like being different?" he asked.
"I don't understand," Mamoru said honestly.
"You're an orphan, that's different. You're a killer. You're a politician and a millionaire and you've committed patricide and fratricide and you're the head of an illegal organisation. You're different. You are in a minority in all of those things. And did it ever do you any good?"
"I suppose not," Mamoru sighed heavily. "I never thought of myself as a minority though."
"I do," Nagi said. "You might as well emulate me for race or religion or sexuality. Doesn't change the fact I'm human though."
Mamoru smiled at him. It wasn't condescending or sympathetic or placating, it was just a smile. Just a smile, an open smile. No strings attached. Mamoru smiled because he was happy, no ulterior motive. The only other person Nagi had really known who smiled like that was Tot. He supposed Siberian had probably smiled like that, though he'd do it when killing someone. It must be odd, he thought, to be in the majority where people rarely smile for any other reason than happiness. Nagi hadn't even smiled out of happiness alone.
"Do you want to get something to eat?" Mamoru broke in on Nagi's confused thoughts. "I know it's all hours of the morning, but I'm starving."
"I am hungry," Nagi admitted. "Normally I have something when I get home." He flashed Mamoru a smile, a knowing smile and an amused smile but not a smile born of happiness, and added, "See, I told you I eat."
They found a noodle bar with cold neon outside and greasy fluorescent tubes within. The food looked deeply unpleasant under such unforgiving illumination, but they were young men and hungry men and both had eaten worse prepared by team mates. They found a dirty table where they wouldn't be blinded tucked against a grimy window. Nagi picked at his noodles while Mamoru watched curiously.
"Bland," the older boy commented.
"I prefer bland," Nagi told him. "I don't really enjoy eating."
"I'd have thought more interesting food would be better then," Mamoru commented. He couldn't even name half the spices dousing his own dish, and he was glad of it. Nagi just had noodles. Plain. Bit of salty water, but other than that, just noodles. Not even any vegetables.
"No," Nagi shook his head. He opened his mouth and closed it again, obviously debating whether to reveal something. Mamoru waited patiently. "Why did you hire me?" Nagi asked eventually.
Mamoru thought for a moment. "You came to us," he pointed out before he began.
"I was an enemy."
"Yes, but you came to us. I knew when I heard that I had to deal with you personally. I didn't want you fighting through legions of paper pushers and bundles of red tape. You were above that."
Nagi shot him a warning look, but Mamoru continued undeterred.
"I watched you while you were with Schwarz. We have enough in common that I can predict, to an extent, how you will react in certain situations. You have a weapon at your disposal I don't, but I knew when Tot died that you felt exactly as I had when Ouka died. If I had your talent my emotions would have manifested in exactly the same way. But Schwarz also instilled some other traits in you that made me trust you. You hated them."
Nagi chewed on a noodle, considering this. "Sometimes," he said eventually. "Crawford, mostly. We were a perfect team, and you can't hate your team mates in that situation. I was comfortable with what I did," he said sternly, which made Mamoru chuckle.
"What use would you have been to me otherwise?" he grinned.
Nagi smirked. "True. If it hadn't been for the summoning and a lack of better offers I would have left Schwarz before I even arrived, but I still trust them with every aspect of my life."
"After the summoning you did look for better offers," Mamoru reminded him. "My point about you relations with Schwarz was that no matter what you were unquestionably loyal. It wasn't money or trust or fear, it was professionalism. It was the same for all of you, to a certain extent," he added darkly. He went on with forced lightness, "I knew I could trust you implicitly once you were in my employ. You'll never take work against me, you'll never provide information to others about me, you'll never take orders that you aren't one hundred percent certain come from me."
Nagi's lips quirked. "All true. You're a good character judge."
"After the... problem with Hirofumi I learnt to be," Mamoru said quietly. For the first time in the conversation Nagi found himself thinking of him as Omi. "I need someone I can trust completely. You're also better trained than almost anyone else, and that combined with your power means I don't have to worry about losing you. You're a hard man to kill, even when taken by surprise."
"You've worked out ways," Nagi observed wryly.
"Odourless, colourless gas," Mamoru offered.
"You've need to lock me in somewhere, otherwise you'd have to pump it in so fast I'd hear it."
"Not if it was somewhere you didn't expect to be gassed, like the conference room. You're even there for extended periods time regularly."
"If I ever start feeling dizzy somewhere in one of your buildings, I will escape and I will kill you." Nagi flashed a grin to show he was joking, though he was telling the truth as well.
"I also don't have to worry about you keeping your opinions to yourself," Mamoru chuckled. "Even ones that contradict my grandfather's."
"I hate him," Nagi said mildly. "He's manipulating you in almost every aspect of your life. Emotional blackmail."
"I know," Mamoru sighed. "I know your opinions on this subject a little too well."
Nagi shrugged. "I've never particularly liked the elderly. Bad associations."
Mamoru laughed. "I like your sense of humour," he said. "I feel honoured by it."
"Very few people are even aware I have one," Nagi said, oddly pleased."That's why I'm honoured. I'm the only one who realises you're joking most of the time."
Nagi smiled at him, flattered. He poked at his remaining noodles, wondering if he might actually be blushing.
"You hired me because you don't have to worry about me," he summarised. "In any way."
"Yes," Mamoru nodded. "And you're a link to the past, I suppose. I sent everyone else away."
"But you kept a mortal enemy by your side."
"Yes," Mamoru smiled at him. It was another motiveless smile. These smiles unnerved Nagi. The feelings they stirred were dangerous.
An employee of the bar came over, probably a son earning his allowance, and hovered cattle-like. "Anything else?" he managed eventually.
"No, thank you," Mamoru smiled at him.
"Hey, aren't you that bloke?" the teenager asked. "That politician bloke."
"Yes," Mamoru nodded. "This is my bodyguard," he gestured to Nagi. "He's very dedicated, don't you think?"
"Yeah," the guy said uncertainly. "You done?"
Nagi shoved his bowl away. The boy collected both bowls and wandered off.
"We can't be here as friends?" Nagi asked softly.
"At three o'clock in the morning?" Mamoru raised an eyebrow. "Those are the kind of rumours than can wreck a career."
"Is that so bad? You can go back to floristry," Nagi murmured. "I could be Aya, and yell for people to get out of the shop if they're not buying anything."
"Shall we go?" Mamoru asked.
As they walked Nagi realised he was leading them back to his apartment. His earlier reluctance seemed bizarre now. He pulled some pocky out of his pocket and began to chew on it.
"I knew you had to still be hungry," Mamoru teased.
Nagi stared at his snack. "I don't know," he blinked.
"How can you not know if you're hungry?" Mamoru asked.
Nagi swallowed another mouthful and thought, hard. "I think I screwed my systems up," he said. "It's probably psychological."
"What happened?" Mamoru asked, expecting some tale of starvation on the streets or torture in Rosenkreuz.
"Stress related eating disorder," Nagi told him simply.
"...like anorexia?" Mamoru frowned. He didn't know much about eating disorders.
"A little," Nagi said. "When I get stressed I can't hold food down. I used to just stop eating, because I hate throwing up. It reached a point where I would refuse to eat when I was merely nervous, which meant when we were doing a lot of work I basically starved myself. It wasn't until I passed out at school that it occurred to the others it was a problem. We never ate together anyway, so it was hardly as though they had any reason to notice. Crawford was away, so Schuldig picked me up. He used his telepathy and a lot of brute force to make certain I ate regularly, though he couldn't help me keep the food down. It began affecting him as well, and he has a high metabolism that made it worse. We ended up taking a compulsory holiday, and once things settled down I made myself settle on regular eating patterns. I eating little and often, and bland food helped."
It was the longest speech Mamoru could remember Nagi making. They were standing outside a tall block of flats now, Nagi focusing intensely on the keypad next to the door.
"Maybe I will worry about you a little," Mamoru said softly. "Will have lunch with me?"
"Every day?" Nagi asked, voice flat.
"Yes. I'd appreciate the company," Mamoru insisted. "You don't actually have to eat."
"Doesn't that destroy the whole point of the exercise?" Nagi said sceptically. He led Mamoru into the dark building, lit only by the preliminary rays of the rising sun.
"No," Mamoru told him. "I'll still be happier with you there, and it will make me stop working through lunch."
"If it will make you happy," Nagi said, surprised at his own words.
"Is this where you live?" Mamoru asked, staring around the unappealing building.
"Yes," Nagi said.
"You could have a Kritiker apa-" Mamoru broke off at Nagi's look. "Of course."
Nagi led him to an unassuming door and opened it to an unassuming apartment. Whatever Mamoru had expected, this wasn't it. It was tiny compared to his own, and Mamoru had always felt cramped. Of course, Nagi managed to avoid that by not furnishing it.
A grey futon was pressed back against one wall folded as a seat, a blanket and thin pillow draped over it. Oven, microwave, fridge and hotplate were all built into one column wall unit. Cupboards lined up next to it in another column. Beside that was a door leading to a bathroom and on the opposite wall there were two sliding doors.
Nagi saw Mamoru's look. He pressed on one sliding door and rolled it back, revealing some deep shelves, one of which acted as a desk. Under the desk was a novelty stool and on top of it was the most complex computer system Mamoru had seen. Once, it had been a laptop, but it had mutated. Extra screens branched from the sides of the original and a second keyboard was plugged in. A handheld scanner, a web cam, a drawing pad, a top of the range laser printer, speakers and a microphone were all cluttering the remaining desk space. On the shelves over that sat row after row of DVDs and CDs.
"I think I'm in love," Mamoru grinned.
Nagi sat on the futon while Mamoru explored the other sliding door. It hid an extensive wardrobe, which surprised him. He'd always assumed Nagi would own multiple versions of exactly the same suit. Some of these outfits were almost sexy. He ran a hand along the sleeve of a mesh shirt and caressed a pair of silk trousers. There was leather in there as well, and jackets apparently composed entirely of zips. The boots at the base of the wardrobe amazed him.
"I think I'm going to have to cheat on your computer with your wardrobe," Mamoru said, but the tone of his voice was less teasing and rather more breathy. Nagi watched him cautiously.
"Are you surprised?" Nagi asked quietly.
"It's much smaller than I thought it would be," Mamoru said. "I would feel suffocated living here."
"I don't really live here," Nagi explained. "I sleep, mostly."
"You do work long hours," Mamoru acknowledged. "You volunteered for them, though. Where is the money going?"
"Retirement fund," Nagi said quickly. Mamoru turned to look at him, and saw the glint in Nagi's eye.
"And when do you intend to retire?" Mamoru asked.
"When I'm twenty-one," Nagi said straight faced.
"Now that's an ambition," Mamoru said respectfully. "And what will you do then?"
"Oh," Nagi said offhandedly, "I doubt I will actually live that long. I really can't imagine what I'd do if I did."
Mamoru stared at him, but he knew this wasn't another of Nagi's unreadable jokes. He walked slowly across the small room and sat next to him on the futon.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"Five, five-thirty. I'd normally get up in half an hour," Nagi said. "Be at your office by seven."
"So no sleep for either of us tonight," Mamoru observed. "I wish there was a more interesting explanation for it."
Nagi's mouth twitched and he slid slightly closer to Mamoru. Mamoru winked and moved towards Nagi. They sat, side pressed against side, leg pressed against leg.
"So, what are we going to do for this half hour before we go back to the office?" Mamoru chuckle.
Nagi rested his hand on Mamoru's leg in an echo of Mamoru's earlier gesture. "I'm tired," he murmured.
"I'm not surprised," Mamoru sighed. He slumped a little on the futon and put an arm around Nagi. "I'm pretty wiped out as well."
"Make good use of that last half hour?" Nagi asked.
"Hell, we can sleep as long as we like," Mamoru laughed dryly. "I'm the boss. No one has to be in until I am."
"Better ring and tell Rex not to expect you until lunch."
Nagi plucked a mobile phone from an interior pocket and handed it to Mamoru, who stood up to make the call. Nagi flattened the futon and grabbed a padded jacket from the wardrobe to serve as a second pillow. Mamoru finished the call with a yawn, smirking because he'd woken Rex up. She wasn't a bad aide, but she was too much under his grandfather's control. She lacked that autonomy Manx and Birman had both made their own, and she lacked the personality that such had given them. He missed them. Nagi was lying under the cover, still mostly dressed, and he held up the side of the blanket for Mamoru to climb in.
They lay face to face on the narrow bed, each with an arm over the other. They slept.