Children of the Night

by Yanagi-sen

Weiss Kreuz songfic

Usual disclaimers apply.  I don't claim credit for creating anyone from Schwarz, they're just fun to play with.  So don't try suing me, you won't get much.

Warnings:  angst, implied violence, OOCness

Author's Note: This story takes place while Schwarz is operational in Japan, but before they really get involved (wink wink) with Weiss.

/ character thoughts /

'mental speech'

[ dream sequence ]

It was late, and Nagi was tired, so very tired.  He'd overextended himself, again.  His head throbbed dully from the strain of using his gift.  He just wanted to sleep.  He sat, rubbing his forehead as Schuldich and Crawford argued in the front seat and Farf sharpened his knives beside him.  It would be along drive back to Tokyo from Atami.  He had just started to doze when he was jerked back into wakefulness.  They'd stopped to put more gas in the car.  Apparently Schu had lost the argument, since he had to get out and work the pump.  Nagi's headache wasn't getting any better; in fact, it was developing into a migraine.    Finally reaching the limit of what he could stand, he leaned forward.  Crawford turned around, handing him some aspirin and a bottle of water before he could even ask.  Nagi downed a couple pills as they got back underway and tried to relax.  He was hovering on the edge of sleep when Schu whined again.

"But, Braaaaaad..."

"Schuldich, be quiet for once."  Something in the man's tone must have alerted Schu.

"Why?"

Farf spoke up quietly.  "Cause Nagi's trying to sleep."  Schu turned around to look at him.  Nagi lifted his head and stared back through slitted eyes, the streetlights made it worse.

~You alright, kid?~

~My head hurts, Schu~'  He could 'feel' Schuldich slide gently into his mind.

~Shit.  Sorry.  Get some rest, chibi.~  Nagi sighed as the other occupants fell silent.  The rhythmic sound of the tires sending him into sleep, his stressed mind jumping from one dream/memory to another.

All that I've known in my life,

I have learnt on the streets...

[ It was getting hard to remember a time when he hadn't been alone.  When he had been cared for.  But not loved, no never loved.  Nagi huddled in his 'spot', a small crawlspace under the entry of a rundown restaurant.  It was one of the best shelters he'd ever had.  No one else really wanted it, at least not enough to try to drive him out.  It was quite small, and hard to get into, but his tiny frame had no difficulty.  It wasn't extremely warm, but at least it kept the weather off.  He pulled the stained and discarded tablecloth a little closer around his thin shoulders.

He looked out at the cold rain that had been falling all night, and continued to fall today.  Was he hungry enough to get wet and risk getting sick again?  Unfortunately, he had to be able to see things to use his power, and even then he dropped stuff half the time.  Nagi sighed.  He wasn't that hungry.  He couldn't afford to get sick; there was no one to look after him.  That was the first and hardest lesson he'd learned out here.  No one would help him.  No one could be trusted.  No one cared. ]

No magic carpet, no genie, no shoes on my feet...

[ Nagi wrapped rags around his feet in an effort to protect them from the icy, glass-ridden streets.  He had folded up pieces of cardboard to form the 'soles' of his makeshift shoes.  They wouldn't do much to keep out the cold, but at least his feet wouldn't be in direct contact with the pavement.  Once done, he pulled all the clothing he had around his slender frame.  Wrapping his tablecloth/blanket around his shoulders, he crept from his hiding place.  Food wasn't going to magically appear, it had been a couple days since he'd been able to venture out in search of something to eat.  The weather had taken a turn for the worse.  He breathed on his freezing hands and started walking. ]

Will I wake up from this nightmare?

A fear that chills me to the bone...

[ He cowered behind what scant cover he could find.  The rumors had been flying all day.  Everyone, from the old bums, to the runaways, to the throwaway kids like himself, could sense the undercurrent of tension and violence.  Something was going to happen.  It was going to happen soon.  And it would most likely be painful and bloody.  The police had busted one of the resident gangs, now they were weak.  It was inevitable that some rival group would try to take advantage of the situation, either to establish a name for themselves or to add to their turf.  The best, and really only thing the street residents could do, was try to stay out of the way.

As the fists, and knives, and bullets started flying, Nagi hunkered down behind the pile of junk in the back of the alley.  He shook with terror, eyes tightly closed, hands over his ears.  /Just let it end, please, just let it be over... / ]

Though I may be one of many, I feel so all alone...

[ "Hey, look.  It's 'the Freak'."  Nagi tried to ignore the taunting as he passed by a group of fellow street kids.  He avoided others as much as possible.  It would have been easier if he could belong to such a group, safety in numbers and all that.  But none of them would have him.  He didn't know why they didn't like him, maybe it was his eyes, maybe his weird power, but they just didn't.  He was only seven and small, he wasn't a threat.  The first stone missed him, luckily.

Nagi half turned and saw a little brat, maybe 5, smirking.  Other kids quickly caught on to the game and looked for their own ammunition.  Nagi didn't wait, he ran.  A couple of the stones and cans connected, he'd definitely have some nasty bruises later, but if they caught him, he could end up dead.  The youngest dropped out pretty quickly but the older ones continued to give chase.  The boy ducked and dodged, his only hope to lose them.  He knew he didn't have the stamina to outlast the bigger ones.  Spying one of his boltholes, he ducked in.  He froze, gasping silently as his tormentors passed by.  He closed his eyes and tilted his head back in relief. ]

Nagi's breathing quickened slightly, his face stressed.  Farfarello watched him for a minute.  Then he eased the boy down to lay on the seat, head pillowed on his thigh.

We are the children of the night...

[ Nagi wandered the streets.  Light from the streetlamps and bright neon signs cast a surreal glow over everything.  It was like some twisted, macabre fairyland.  He quickly passed by a bar boasting nude dancing girls and slunk into the shadows.  He liked wandering at night.  You had to really pay attention and watch your back though.  A lot of people; drug dealers, gangs, pimps; would love to get a hold of a lone street kid.  But he was wary and knew most of the local creeps by sight.  In spite of the danger, Nagi loved the night.  Except for one night… ]

Farfarello was reassured by the way Nagi had settled down.  He played with the strands of chocolate-colored hair, much to the amusement of Schuldich.  Farf didn't care.  He liked soft things.  And sharp things.  Now if he could find a way to combine them...

Left by my father with only the scar on my face.

Told by my mother,

'Oh no.  You were just a mistake.'...

[ Nagi crouched behind the door, peeking out at his parents.  His big, midnight-blue eyes, too old for his four-year old face, were unable to look away.  The adults had started with arguing, gone into shouting, and were now hitting.  He watched as his mother screamed at his father, her thin face a mask of fury.  Nagi could tell by her blood-shot eyes that she had taken her pills again.  The one time he'd asked her about them, she'd backhanded him into a wall.

Nagi's eyes slid toward his father.   The man's face was an alarming shade of red.  He'd only returned from work an hour ago and already he was drunk.  The man bellowed back, raising a fist for emphasis.  Nagi cringed; this was going to be bad.  He watched, helpless, as his mother's cries of rage turned to pain.  Nagi was unable to look away as his father beat her, screaming incoherently.  After what seemed to be an eternity to the young boy, his father turned away from the weeping woman.  In a previously unseen burst of aggression, his mother flung herself at her abuser, striking him weakly.  With a roar, the man threw her off.

She wobbled at the top of the stairway for a moment.  But her momentum was too great, and her impaired body unable to balance itself.  As she started to fall, her eyes met Nagi's, peeking around the doorframe; even then there was no love for him in them.  He heard a few loud thumps and then an eerie silence.  Nagi burst out of hiding and pelted down the stairs.

"Kaasan?!  Kaasan?!"  She lay crumpled at the foot of the stairs.  Nagi shook her shoulder.  "Kaasan?"  Her head lolled to the side, her eyes were wide and staring.  There was no life in them.  Nagi looked up to see his father towering over him.  "Tousan?"  The man's cold glare held no remorse.  He could see it in his father's eyes.  If he didn't run, Nagi would be next. ]

Nagi whimpered slightly, catching the attention of the redhead in the front seat.  ~Farfarello.~

~Aye?~

~If he gets more restless let me know.~

I have tasted my own hunger,

and sold my body to survive...

[ Nagi froze, making himself as small as possible.  The Creep, was prowling again.  The boy had seen the man lead other kids away.  No one ever saw them again.  He only ever took the pretty ones, told them he'd give them food, clothes, a home.  Word on the street was that The Creep was selling them on the black market.  As hungry as he was, there was no way in Hell; Nagi would willingly go with the man.

He breathed a quick sigh of relief as The Creep moved on.  But he also felt sorry for whomever the man got his hands on.  It wasn't as if Nagi hadn't been propositioned before, by pimps and individuals alike.  He wasn't willing to sell himself into that life, not yet.  He didn't know what they saw in him, he was a scrawny, dirty, street rat.  But something seemed to attract them.  Nagi ignored his empty stomach and looked for a good place to hole up, just in case The Creep decided to come back. ]

What you do might scratch the surface,

but you can't touch what's inside...

[ Nagi buried his emotions behind a cold mask.  That combined with his weird power, was usually sufficient to ward off most of the other kids.  It wasn't quite enough for the bigger predators, but he was usually too quick for them.  If he couldn't feel, he couldn't be hurt anymore.  The sacrifice of his gentler nature was a small price to pay for survival. 

"Hey, this is our turf you little fucker!"  Nagi just turned his cold, midnight blue eyes on the boy.  His friends were quick to grab him the haul him away.  Nagi could just hear them as they slunk off.  'You wanna die?'  'Yeah man, haven't ya ever seen him?'  'What do ya mean?'  'He's weird.  He'd got these strange powers.'  'Yeah, I saw him throw a kid clear across the street.'  'A kid, Hell, I saw him throw a car.'  'Really?'  'Yeah, he's like some kind a youka or somethin'.' ]

Crawford watched them in the rear-view mirror.  "Schu, could you..."

"Of course."

We are the children of the night...

[ He wandered as he had done nearly every night for the last five years.  He couldn't sleep the night through, it wasn't safe.  Every couple of hours, he just had to get up and take a look around.  Tonight though, Nagi had a prickly feeling between his shoulder blades.  Someone was watching him.  Without being too obvious about it.  Nagi tried to loose his shadow.  He ducked and wove through the busy Tokyo streets.  Finally, the feeling eased.  Getting tired again, he decided to head for his 'home', currently a small niche at the back of an alley. 

Checking the street, he ducked into the alley and ran straight into someone.  Obeying instinct, he bolted.  Quick as he was though, the man was quicker, almost as if he had anticipated the move.  Nagi struggled, but he was too weak, he still hadn't recovered from getting attacked by those gang members a few days ago.  Starting to panic, he thrashed.

"Stop fighting and you won't get hurt."

"Who are you?"

"I've heard you can move things with your mind.  Is that true?"  Nagi stopped struggling, startled.  The man set him down, turning him around so he could see him.  "My name is Crawford." ]

How I've longed for something better,

than this life I know too well...

[ Crawford-san lead him into a room.  Lounging on the couch was a young redheaded man.  The American spoke rapidly in a language Nagi couldn't understand.  He looked up at Crawford-san in confusion.  The man gave him a push and the boy stumbled, too tired and overwhelmed to balance himself.  Luckily the redhead caught him and called out to the retreating American. 

The younger man questioned Crawford-san who answered quickly on his way out the door.  The boy heard his name, but couldn't understand the rest.  The door to the apartment closed, leaving Nagi with the stranger.  The redhead muttered quietly under his breath.  Nagi couldn't understand the words, but he knew what that tone meant.  The man was irritated, with him or with Crawford-san.  He sighed tiredly.  This was just too much to deal with on top of everything else.  The redhead looked down at him and his jade eyes softened slightly.  He spoke to him in a much more gentle tone.  His head was cocked as if waiting for a response.  Nagi just shook his head.

"Sprechan sie Deutsch?"  The man waited.  "Do you speak English?"  He frowned slightly.  "Parlez-vous francais?"  He sighed.  He gestured for Nagi to follow him and lead the way to the bathroom.  The redhead left him alone to bathe, but returned with a shirt and a pair of shorts.  The shirt hung to his knees, but at least it was clean.

Next the man took him into the kitchen and put more food in front of him than Nagi usually saw in a week.  Crawford-san had given him something to eat, but he hadn't had much to offer, and Nagi had been too nervous to eat on the plane, he'd never flown before.  The man stared off into space, lost in his own thoughts, and the young boy found his eyes getting heavy.  He fought to stay awake till he could find someplace safe to hole up in, but it was a losing battle.  The next thing he knew, Nagi was being lifted and carried into a small bedroom.  He was laid on a bed, the first real bed he'd had in five years.  There was a soft touch in his mind and a feeling of 'care'.  Sleep wasn't long in claiming him fully. ]

But I know I'm bound for Heaven,

'Cause I've spent my time in Hell...

~Schu, what are you doing here?~  Nagi realized he was still dreaming, but not.  It was odd when Schu did this.

~You weren't exactly resting peacefully, were you, Prodigy?~

Nagi shrugged.  ~It wasn't too bad.~

~Um hum?  It was enough to agitate Farf.~

~Gomen.~

~It's not your fault.  I just came in to 'nudge' you toward more pleasant dreams.~

~Arigatou.~

~Don't mention it.  Any particular reason for the bad ones?~

~I don't think so.  Maybe it's the migraine.~

~Maybe.  Do you want me to take care of it?~

~It'll go away.~

~Suit yourself.  You get some rest, you're looking a little worn out.~

We are the children of the night...

Nagi woke with a start.  He was back in his own room, in his own bed.  Someone had carried him up from the car.  Probably Schu, or Farf, Crawford wouldn't have bothered.  He got up and moved to his closet.  Whoever took care of him had only removed his shoes.  He changed into looser clothes and stepped out on to the balcony.  Even after all this time, Nagi still couldn't sleep through the night.  Since Crawford frowned on his wandering, he had to be contented with watching the city streets from above.

~You awake, Prodigy?~  The German stood in the doorway to his own room.

~Hai, Schu.~

The redhead came out to where Nagi sat with his head pressed to the railing.  ~What are you doing?~

~Watching.~

~Ah.  You were doing some serious dreaming earlier.~

~Hai.  Did I bother you?~

~Nein.  You okay?~

Nagi just shrugged.  Schuldich sat beside him and they watched the city beneath them.

We are the children of the night.

Owari

I've been toying with using this song for months.  Crawford redeems himself slightly, course this is before Nagi gets involved with Omi, or pulls Masafumi's mansion down on their heads.  But still, Bradley-dear isn't quite the prick he is in my other stories, must be the stress gets to him.