Disclaimer/Notes: No, I don't own Schuldich, Ran, Weiss or Schwarz in any way, shape or form. Though it would be somewhat interesting. .O;
:: Ponderance::
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/Why?/
It was a question he often asked himself. To be more precise, it was a question that was always lingering in the back of his mind, waiting to be
asked. Waiting to be asked, whenever those amethyst eyes were turned on him in distaste. In scorn. In hate.
"Well now, someone seems to have taken my seat. I suppose I'll have to sit here instead," purred the voice of the Schwarz redhead. Of course,
it was a lie; a pitiful attempt at humor, if anything. It was true, in a way- someone -was- sitting in his normal spot. But the seats beyond, as well
as the basic area in general, was completely deserted. Ran Fijimiya glared at him, finding obviously no humor in it whatsoever.
"Hnn. Suit yourself." And with that, the ashen-faced leader of Weiss resumed his staring. This habit of staring amused Schuldich, whether Ran
knew it or not. In fact, Schuldich often sat and pondered just what he was staring at, and how he could stand to stare it down for hours on end.
"I think I will, liebe, I think I will." He sashayed over to the other assassin and sat himself down, immediately cuddling up to him and perching
his chin on the abyssinian's left shoulder. As usual, he smelled so wonderful. He felt so wonderful.. he wondered, with a mental chuckle to
himself, what the rest of him felt like. It was rediculous, this. Despite the hatred between Weiss and Schwarz, their off-duty hours were
commonly spent with none other than they're hated rivals. And despite the vibes of anger that Schuldich could posatively feel wafting from
Ran's very core, the same events seemed to take place everyday. A glare, a smirk. The battle continued.
/Gods, he's so comforatable../ Schuldich thought to himself. /I wish he would talk to me./ He gave Ran's shoulder a nuzzle to emphasize his own
thoughts, earning himself a disgusted glare.
Disgust. He was used to it, by now. It was all he ever got. He supposed it was because all Schuldich did was toy with him; resume and endless
game of cat and mouse. It was, however, the only way he knew of to get close to Ran, and he would do it forever if he had to. The results,
however vauge, were well worth it.
"What the hell are you doing?" The other assasin's words brought Schuldich out of his daze and back to reality. Back to hopelessness.
"What the hell are -you- doing? You look dead. Almost as dead as your sister did." And he smirked. He knew it was a weak blow, a sore spot.
But he didn't care. It was payback. An unfair payback, by anyone else's standards- Ran was guilty of nothing more than failing to feel the same
for Schuldich as Schuldich felt for him. Compared to everything Schuldich had dealt with in life already, however, that was enough.
Another glare. Amethyst eyes darkening with anger. Resentment. .. Resentment. Schuldich felt enough of that by himself. As little as he'd like
to admit, he was jealous of Ran. Ran, at one time, had a happy family. A family he loved, and who loved him in return. The only things
Schuldich could remember about his family were the times he had run away from them, and the times his father had painfully used him.
/You're killing me, Ran. What is that, in there?/
There was something that Schuldich couldn't quite put his finger on. Something lingering inside Ran's head, that even his powers couldn't
reach and understand. He didn't know what it was, but whenever he could get mentally close enough to it, he liked it. It was strangely.. warm.
But that unknown thing was much to far gone, surrounded much too tightly with scorn and rejection. And yet still, it nagged at Schuldich,
luring him in. He would find it, one day, and dig it out.
"Saa.." Schuldich's arm wound itself around Ran's neck, and he promptly began to comb through his burgandy locks of hair. "You're so kawaii
when you're angry.." He looked at Ran through slitted eyes, meeting a look which the embodiment of hatred would have been proud to have.
"Get off. Now."
A lazy grin spread across the Mastermind's face. "Whatever you say, liebe.."
"Baka!" Ran's voice sounded tested, out of patience. Indeed, the telepath sensed that Ran had had quite enough already. The discomfort was
plain as day. "I didn't mean -that- way. Hnn."
/Of course not./ He sighed, careful not to let it be heard. /I want to know what it is. What this feeling is. Who.. Schatten is./
Schatten. It was the only thing he could hear clearly from the thoughts he tried to dig through. The only name the abyssinian's mind let him
have. He didn't know what to make of it, but he has vowed that he would take whatever steps he needed to in order to find out.
/One day, liebe. One day./
:: Ponderance::
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
/Why?/
It was a question he often asked himself. To be more precise, it was a question that was always lingering in the back of his mind, waiting to be
asked. Waiting to be asked, whenever those amethyst eyes were turned on him in distaste. In scorn. In hate.
"Well now, someone seems to have taken my seat. I suppose I'll have to sit here instead," purred the voice of the Schwarz redhead. Of course,
it was a lie; a pitiful attempt at humor, if anything. It was true, in a way- someone -was- sitting in his normal spot. But the seats beyond, as well
as the basic area in general, was completely deserted. Ran Fijimiya glared at him, finding obviously no humor in it whatsoever.
"Hnn. Suit yourself." And with that, the ashen-faced leader of Weiss resumed his staring. This habit of staring amused Schuldich, whether Ran
knew it or not. In fact, Schuldich often sat and pondered just what he was staring at, and how he could stand to stare it down for hours on end.
"I think I will, liebe, I think I will." He sashayed over to the other assassin and sat himself down, immediately cuddling up to him and perching
his chin on the abyssinian's left shoulder. As usual, he smelled so wonderful. He felt so wonderful.. he wondered, with a mental chuckle to
himself, what the rest of him felt like. It was rediculous, this. Despite the hatred between Weiss and Schwarz, their off-duty hours were
commonly spent with none other than they're hated rivals. And despite the vibes of anger that Schuldich could posatively feel wafting from
Ran's very core, the same events seemed to take place everyday. A glare, a smirk. The battle continued.
/Gods, he's so comforatable../ Schuldich thought to himself. /I wish he would talk to me./ He gave Ran's shoulder a nuzzle to emphasize his own
thoughts, earning himself a disgusted glare.
Disgust. He was used to it, by now. It was all he ever got. He supposed it was because all Schuldich did was toy with him; resume and endless
game of cat and mouse. It was, however, the only way he knew of to get close to Ran, and he would do it forever if he had to. The results,
however vauge, were well worth it.
"What the hell are you doing?" The other assasin's words brought Schuldich out of his daze and back to reality. Back to hopelessness.
"What the hell are -you- doing? You look dead. Almost as dead as your sister did." And he smirked. He knew it was a weak blow, a sore spot.
But he didn't care. It was payback. An unfair payback, by anyone else's standards- Ran was guilty of nothing more than failing to feel the same
for Schuldich as Schuldich felt for him. Compared to everything Schuldich had dealt with in life already, however, that was enough.
Another glare. Amethyst eyes darkening with anger. Resentment. .. Resentment. Schuldich felt enough of that by himself. As little as he'd like
to admit, he was jealous of Ran. Ran, at one time, had a happy family. A family he loved, and who loved him in return. The only things
Schuldich could remember about his family were the times he had run away from them, and the times his father had painfully used him.
/You're killing me, Ran. What is that, in there?/
There was something that Schuldich couldn't quite put his finger on. Something lingering inside Ran's head, that even his powers couldn't
reach and understand. He didn't know what it was, but whenever he could get mentally close enough to it, he liked it. It was strangely.. warm.
But that unknown thing was much to far gone, surrounded much too tightly with scorn and rejection. And yet still, it nagged at Schuldich,
luring him in. He would find it, one day, and dig it out.
"Saa.." Schuldich's arm wound itself around Ran's neck, and he promptly began to comb through his burgandy locks of hair. "You're so kawaii
when you're angry.." He looked at Ran through slitted eyes, meeting a look which the embodiment of hatred would have been proud to have.
"Get off. Now."
A lazy grin spread across the Mastermind's face. "Whatever you say, liebe.."
"Baka!" Ran's voice sounded tested, out of patience. Indeed, the telepath sensed that Ran had had quite enough already. The discomfort was
plain as day. "I didn't mean -that- way. Hnn."
/Of course not./ He sighed, careful not to let it be heard. /I want to know what it is. What this feeling is. Who.. Schatten is./
Schatten. It was the only thing he could hear clearly from the thoughts he tried to dig through. The only name the abyssinian's mind let him
have. He didn't know what to make of it, but he has vowed that he would take whatever steps he needed to in order to find out.
/One day, liebe. One day./