A/N: Welcome to my newest Weiss fic! I'm the first to admit I've never done a fic that is specifically Youji or Schuldig before, but I'm willing to try it and hopefully I won't get bogged down in clichés as I go (feel free to tell me if I am – I love constructive criticism).

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz nor am I in any way, shape or form connected to Project Weiss. I am merely using their ideas for my own amusement.

Warning/s: None

"A Different Fight"

Chapter 1

Youji nonchalantly walks out the door of the flower shop, his blonde hair glowing an odd green in the neon of the streetlights. His thoughts are elsewhere as he continues the motion of starting his car, then the music hits him and he doesn't need to think anymore. All he has to do is be. He turns it up as he heads down the freeway, the Tokyo city skyline lights up an almost ethereal rainbow of colour, a smoky smear across the velvety night sky above. All the stars are in hiding, unable to compete with the luminescent beauty below them.

It doesn't take long for the catlike assassin to select a bar, he doesn't feel like much dancing tonight, he does however feel like a beer. Damn, even spirits would be better than nothing. It had been one of those days, really. Ken had stuffed up the order so they didn't have enough baby's-breath to complete the arrangements for a clients engagement party, Omi had failed a test at school and was moping and Aya had been angry at the world, particularly the world within their flower shop, even the lovely young school girls hadn't brightened his spirits that afternoon – what was the point if he could look but not touch?

Glancing around the bar he commented inwardly that if he was looking for anything he would have left by now. The girl behind the bar had a bad dye job and whatever bra she was wearing wasn't doing anything for her, in fact Youji suspected she wasn't wearing one at all which, contrary to popular belief, did nothing for him. The two young things in the corner he may have started on, on any other night – but they weren't going to give him the playfulness and energetic chase he required if the activity was to work off any of his agitation. Behind their heavily made up eyes he doubted there had ever been a spark of activity, let alone an original thought process. No, it looked like he was going to have to remove his frustration at the world another way, he raised his beer and half drained it. It was beginning to feel like his entire life was just becoming a bar. He guessed that when he saw his life flash before his eyes it would just be the bottom of a beer glass. Sad, really.

Schuldig snarled at Crawford as he left the apartment, the door made a satisfying bang as he flung it closed behind him and he had the strong suspicion that he had also heard a cracking noise – also good. Something else for that obnoxious American to deal with. For the second time that week the telepath swore he wasn't going to come back. Yet for some reason he always did. He opened his car door, still muttering about incompetent leaders and impulsively he sent a particularly vicious probe back into the house and felt the leaders mind flinch away in pain. He regretted it almost instantly, but couldn't do anything about it. He hated how easily he could hurt people. They were defenceless and he could hurt them, almost literally, without a thought. Or at least he could leave them that way. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, his own mind veering in horror away from that thought. He turned the key hard in the ignition and reversed violently out of the driveway before crunching the gears, something he hated doing normally, but now he was too pissed off to care, and flattened his foot on the accelerator, speeding into the night. Towards the disgusting technological wasteland, the jungle he for some unfathomable reason chose to stalk. The glaring lights all trying to compete for the right to burn his retinas. He relaxed a little. A good place to lose himself. Within the hell of that bustling city his mind would become so overwhelmed with other people's thoughts that it would go beyond annoyance, beyond even pain and become nothing. Sometimes that was all he could possibly wish for.

Schuldig parked directly in front of a bar tucked into a side street, blatantly ignoring the sign that stated 'No Parking'. His mind was already a mess of vibrations, he was no longer taking anything in. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cigarette packet and lit up, his exhalations joining with all the other smoky emissions that filled this city. It was fun wen he was in the mood, but pissed off was not one of those moods. He grimaced at the buildings towering above him, and a stray thought asked him about upside down cities and he wondered where the hell that had come from. He pushed it back into the depths of thought that weren't in the immediate forefront. He took a moment to be suitably impressed by the sheer amount in there and then realised it was a Friday night. He closed his eyes and bitterly took another drag – hoping he might float away with the smoke.

Youji looked at the door, swilling the remaining beer around in his glass in time to the throbbing R n B that filled the bar. Now that chick had nice hair, a long lustrous red mane, well looked after and glossy. Not dry and bleached like so many he saw these days, straw-like and coarse. No, her hair was nice. He turned back to the bar and nodded his head to the song a little. His mind wandered and he felt himself accusing the other members of his team, more like family really…but still! Damn it, Omi – why choose today to tell the world that you're an angsting teen and don't want to help? Ken, why not double check with someone? Why not offer an alternative instead of stammering apologies as Aya blows up? Jesus Christ, why can't they just be more respectful of everyone else? He chose to ignore the recent spats he and Aya had been having over tofu in the fridge – which, just for the record, shouldn't be left there until it gains sentience. If you're going to buy it, that's fine, but damn well use it! The blonde sighed. He was sitting in a bar drinking on his own and stressing about tofu. He wondered if you could whistle up a life like a cab. He put down his empty beer glass, he didn't even remember draining it and the bar girl took it away.

Schuldig looked over his shoulder and contemplated going inside. He scoped out whether it would be worth his time, he had angry energy to burn and he needed to use it somewhere. He doubted the two girls in the corner were contributing at all to his inundation of thoughts, though he doubted he would be able to tell at the moment. Anyway, he wanted a challenge, not something that easy. The girl serving at the bar desperately needed a bra, she wasn't that attractive anyway, but still. Now the girl sitting at the bar…Schuldig took another drag and contemplated. He couldn't see her face but she looked good enough from behind. Blonde hair fell in sculpted waves to her shoulders, she didn't seem vain, sitting almost languidly on the bar stool. He pondered for a moment whether he should bother, he glanced at his cigarette and took one last drag, if worst came to worst he could always just buy a drink and leave. He flicked the still smouldering butt into the darkness. He turned back to the bar and walked in as if he owned the place.

The serving girl at the bar looked up as a rather cute redhead approached, Youji looked up to see what she was looking at and paused. He blinked and wondered if he could possibly be drunk after one beer. He decided against it and then decided, instead, that he was in a bad situation.

Schuldig stalked across towards the bar, smiled at the serving girl, even though he wasn't interested and the blonde at the bar turned to look at him. From there on his plan fell to pieces. The casual chatter he had planned obliterated and he wished he had thought to bring something for this sort of situation with him, but of course he hadn't and his mind would be deadened by this inner city babble. He swore mentally and the two assassins stared at each other in amazement for at least four long moments before the German raised an eyebrow and broke the ice,

"Kittens shouldn't prowl the city, they have a tendency to get lost."

"So do Masterminds it seems." Youji replied without missing a beat. Schuldig was inwardly impressed, despite his worry that the other assassin would pull a wire out of his watch and kill him, but still impressed. Schuldig cocked his head to one side and indicated to the stool next to the Weiss member and asked,

"May I?"

It was Youji's turn to be impressed, but before the respect registered he had already responded, archly,

"Manners all of a sudden?"

The two looked at each other again before the redhead swept in close, as if they were in a club and the music were too loud, foreheads connecting on an angle as the German's smoky breath hit the blonde's ear as he said,

"We can't fight here, Weiss."

Youji's green eyes danced in amusement before he responded, with a sliver of sarcasm,

"So what do you suggest? We each have a drink and go our separate ways?"

"I propose a different competition." Schuldig's mind whirled, he was sure he could easily beat this annoying man and then head off into the city, having successfully beaten him. Youji's eyebrows raised as he pulled away and said,

"Really?"

A/N: Sadly I'm also notorious for short chapters, my apologies. Please review this chapter if you enjoyed it – even if you didn't enjoy it, feel free to review it! All input is greatly appreciated.

I don't believe the fanon rumour that Crawford is immune to Schuldig's telepathy, I prefer to think that Schuldig just respects his leader enough not to abuse the privilege. If you can find an example of this in canon, I'm quite happy to change my stance.

This oddment is accredited to Akari Ryu who made a comment while we were wandering around the city at night a few weeks ago about upside down cities. I felt it was random enough to include as a thought here.