One More Day

The Day I Die

Disclaimer: Not mine. Bite me.

Omi woke up feeling that the day was going to be a perfect day. The week-long rain had stopped, and the sun was shining. He had the day off of work, and school - it was all his. As he showered, he turned his radio on, and caught some of the lyrics over the harsh pounding of the water.

"One day I woke up woke up knowing today is the day I will die..." He frowned, wondering at such an odd song. "You know the happiest day of my life... I swear the happiest day of my life is the day that I die."

He put the song out of his mind, and decided to go out for a walk. His legs carried him to the library, and he spent a few good hours there, looking up the latest novels by R.A. Salvatore.

Omi'd brought his headphones and cd player on a whim, and after checking the books and a few CDs out, he was content to sit in a section of the library and read, listening to the CD. Gradually the song shifted to the front of his mind, and causing him to frown. "Can you feel the cold tonight? .. (the day that I died) .. It sets in but it's alright .. (the day that I died) .. Darkness falls I'm letting go .. (the day that I died) .. All alone but I feel just fine

Did I live it right? .. I hope I lived it right .. I hope I lived it right, I know I lived it right .. Did I live it right? .. I hope I lived it right, I know I lived it right..."

It gave him a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he couldn't find any reason for it. His book lay forgotten on his lap as he thought about the mission that night. It seemed like a simple in and out job, but Omi had learned that NOTHING was simple. Not in this line of work. Thinking of the mission lead him to think about Weiss, and the flower shop. They were closing down - temporarily - but the fangirls were taking it hard. He glanced up as someone took the seat across from him, and a quick look around told him that all of the other seats in this sitting area were taken. The stranger seemed content to read his book - which, Omi noticed, was the same as the one he was reading - and so Omi left him alone. It wasn't as though he'd been using that seat any way.

After a while, he grew bored with the book. A glance at the time told him that he'd been there for about four hours, and he needed food. He glanced at the stranger who'd sat at his table, in his circle of awareness, and found himself staring before he could help it. The boy was dressed in black from head to toe, but somehow it didn't make him seem anything but attractive. This boy wore that color and wore it well. Omi started at his feet, and stared. He was wearing black sneakers, with silver and black laced through them. He wondered about the silver. It was the only sign of rebellion against the monochromatic wardrobe on him. Trailing his eyes up his legs, Omi found them to be encased in well-fitting jeans. Black, of course, he thought with a little smile. His shirt is more of a jacket-like thing, with a high neck, and two strange pocket looking things that might fasten it closed. He has a strange pair of goggles around his neck, and a pair of headphones over his ears. Omi blinked as he realized he was being watched, even as he was watching. Oceanic blue eyes stared out at him from under chocolate brown locks, a few strands falling into his face carelessly.

--

Nagi grumbled all morning about the ungodly hour that Schuldig had pulled him from his bed. No one was really paying him very much mind, but the grumbling gave him satisfaction anyway. Finally Crawford told him to get out of the house and go do something.

Still irritated, he left, dressing in an atypical manner to his usual outfits. Nothing had seemed to match his dark mood as well as the black jacket and pants he'd donned before leaving. His sneakers were well worn, but also well taken care of, and looked almost new on the outside. Taking his CD player, he wandered around the park until he grew bored with the cherry blossoms. He stopped by the flowershop on a whim, but seeing nothing - nobody, though he wouldn't admit it - there, he left again.

Finally, he found himself in the library, and settled down with some books and his CD player. Before too long, he felt eyes on him, and glanced over. The boy sitting across from him was breath-takingly stunning, and staring at him. He took advantage of the others distraction to look him over. Honey blonde hair that seemed soft as down, and he found his fingers twitched to run through it. He had turquoise eyes that shone with an inner light, and skin the soft brown color of a fading tan. He was wearing a black baggy teeshirt with some inane design on it that Nagi briefly registered as being attractive to look at, and hugely baggy pants. Nagi smirked slightly, imagining that he could probably fit two or three of himself into those pants. There were straps hanging off them that reminded him of what Farfarello wore occasionally, and his shoes were scuffed and worn, though Nagi noted with some amusement that not only were they reading the same book, they had the same shoes on, too. He let his eyes wander back up, and watched as the other boy looked him over just as intensely, but with less speed. Nagi simply stared at him, waiting for their eyes to meet, and when they did, it was like the breath was sucked from his chest and replaced by a nothingness that threatened to swallow him. The boy across from his held a deep pain in those eyes, almost as deep as his own, and it startled him to see it there. What could have cut this person so deeply? Nagi blinked and the pain was gone, replaced by embarrassment and and a tinge of regret.

"Forgive me," he said quietly. "I did not mean to stare." Nagi, although technically Japanese, had been to so many other places in his life with Schwarz, that he was almost surprised when the other boy apologized for staring. He smiled, and nearly fell over when he realized it.

"It was no trouble to me," he said, accepting the apology with a nod. "My name is Naoe Nagi."

"Tsukiyono Omi," he returned. Nagi nodded again. /Omi.../ He glanced at the book. "Do you read him very often?" he asked, gesturing the book. Omi's face lit up in a smile at the conversation.

"Not really. I haven't read in a while, and I had nothing else to do with my time." he said, and waved his hand over to the larger stack of books that he'd read, and the smaller one that consisted of only one or two books that he had yet to read. Nagi looked them over.

"I have most of those at my house. Sch... ... My cousin likes to read them sometimes when he thinks no ones looking." Omi laughed softly.

"My room-mates wouldn't be caught dead reading. At least, not this sort of thing." he offered. "What are you listening to?"

Nagi paled slightly. "Er..." It wasn't very Nagi-ish music, and he didn't know why he'd chosen it. "Good Charlotte," he said finally, and turned it up so Omi could hear. Omi's face drained of blood, going white as bleach.

Tinny and small from the headphones the lyrics were frightening. "I swear the happiest day of my life is the day that I die."

Nagi noticed the change in his color immediately, and turned it down. "Are you alright?" he asked, then wondered why he cared. He didn't care about much else in this world, and he was surprising himself today.

After a few moments, Omi visibly got control over himself, and nodded. "I'm fine," he said, a little unsteadily. He looked at the clock again, and Nagi sighed, figuring something about the song he was listening to was going to end the friendship before it began. He studied Omi as Omi studied the clock, and wondered at why the boy seemed so familiar. Finally Omi jotted something down on a piece of paper, and handed it to him. "I live above the flower shop, Kitty in the House." he said. "That's my email address," he smiled. "Write me sometime," he said, and left. Nagi memorized both the email address and the shop name, and threw it away, before heading back to the apartment that he shared with the rest of Schwarz.

Omi went home, also feeling like he'd seen the other boy before. Not recently... He'd've remembered if it had been recently. Something out of his past. He set about looking through his old school year books, and found nothing. Frowning, he looked him up on the internet, but again, nothing came up, not even with some minor hacking involved. He was an enigma, a mystery. A name and a face, with no records, no official anything to tell Omi about him, about who he was. After an hour of extensive searching, Omi turned up school records from a few years ago, when Nagi had attended college night classes. They were a very high class, very strict school, and demanded uniforms of everyone who passed their doors. Omi dug a little more into the school, and uncovered nothing more serious than the history of the school, and information on the headmaster. He found a link that lead to the website of the woman who had designed the uniforms about fifty years ago, and a picture of the uniform was frighteningly familiar. It looked just like the one that the Schwarz telekinetic had worn the day Weiss had faced down with Schreient. He'd been protecting - or trying to protect - the strange umbrella girl who called herself Tot. It was one of the clearer memories Omi had of the diminutive kid, as the one time they'd actually fought eachother he'd been in a white suit.

Omi shook his head. How did looking up information about Nagi turn into a walk down Memory Lane with SCHWARZ! Before he knew it, Aya was at his door, informing him that they were leaving for the mission.

Omi sighed. /Weiss, Weiss... It's always Weiss.../ He set about cleaning all his equipment, making sure that everything was in working order, and nothing was broken. He'd had to restring his compound bow after the last mission, as one of the guards had caught it with his knife and snapped it. Omi still bore the wound on his arm and stomach where the lashing wire had caught him, and he was pretty sure it was going to scar permanently. After washing and restringing his cross bow, he filled a few darts with whatever compound Kritiker was sending him now, and set them aside. He showered quickly, not bothering to wash deeply, but wanting the days sweat and sun off him. He pulled on his shorts, the suspenders for his quiver already attached, and went in search of his shirt. After several years wearing this, he knew he had to get a new one soon, but he couldn't decide on what he wanted. Kritiker was waiting patiently for his order, and in the meantime, he had an outfit almost identical to the one he'd worn during the 'Schwarz/Takatori/Estet' year. The shorts were longer, and his shoes and jacket were black, but otherwise, it was the same. It was hard to believe that he was nineteen. Hard to believe that he and his team had survived all those years of dangerous missions and near-misses in one piece. Whole, hearty, and healthy, but two years older. Omi shook his head, waving away the sentimental crap, and pulled on the rest of his 'outfit'. He loaded up with several darts, and pulled his crossbow down so that it would fit neatly against his lower back, just above the bolts hanging at his hip. Ready, he sat down and focused his mind, remembering everything that was happening tonight. He'd planned it out perfectly, his growing knack for knowing what was going to happen becoming an even more helpful insight into keeping his team alive.

They left at nine, driving silently. Omi found himself humming the tune under his breath but it wasn't until they were within sight of the building that the lyrics burst out of him. "The happiest day of my life is the day that I die..." Ken glanced at him, giving him a strange look, but Omi either didn't notice, or chose not to. He thought backwards over the day. It had indeed been an awesome day. Nothing had gone wrong, and he'd walked into the mission in the best mood he'd been in in a long time. He'd had time to skim over his email before leaving, and discovered there was a message waiting from Nagi. He hadn't had time to read it, though, and contented himself with knowing that the boy had taken the time to email him. Smiling, he lead the team into the building.

---

On the other side of the street, Schwarz waited patiently for Crawford to come out of his visions. Nagi was still dressed in the black suit from earlier, as he hadn't felt the need to change for something as simple as this. They were to go in, assassinate the man within, and leave. Crawford smirked, letting them know he was ready. Across the bond they shared, he sent them the information.

-Weiss is here. They will assassinate him for us, if we let them, but it will be a much more interesting outcome if they find him dead.- he said. He Knew that the outcome would be 'interesting' but he wasn't sure HOW it would play out that way. His gift had shown him two possible outcomes. If Weiss killed the man, they would leave before Schwarz even entered the building. No fun there. If Schwarz were to sneak in now, past the guards Weiss was tangled up in, and kill the man, SOMETHING would happen. Crawford's smirk widened. He wanted that something to happen. It was important somehow, would tie very deeply in with Schwarz's future, and he knew that it must happen. Schwarz was inside almost instantly; the decision having been made, his team worked together as an efficient machine. Almost no talking was needed. Schuldig would seek out the people nearby, Farfarello would kill them. Nagi made sure no harm came to Schwarz itself, and Crawford led them through the mess to the place they needed to be. They passed so closely to Weiss that one of its members turned their head and looked into the darkness, wondering who was moving there. By that time, they'd moved on, and nothing was there.

---

Omi was SURE he felt someone brush his arm as they'd passed, but he didn't hear or see anything, and his flashlight revealed nothing. Attributing it to the wind, or his accidental touching of a wall or pipe or something, Omi moved on. He'd claimed the kill for himself, and the rest had agreed, willing to tie themselves up with the guards while Omi was carrying out the mission. Once he'd been able to slip away, he made his way up the stairs to the presidents office. He found the door open, which made him pause. The door would be closed... Why was it open? Thinking maybe the man had left to get a drink or something, he crept in silently.

Schwarz was still in the room, cloaked in darkness and a little of Schuldig's gift. Omi didn't see them. He hadn't known they'd be there, wasn't looking for them, and ignored them as if they were merely part of the furniture. He stealthily wandered around, so silently that Schwarz hadn't heard him come in. If not for Schuldig suddenly feeling him, and remembering who that mind belonged too, none of them would have noticed him any more than he'd noticed them. He turned the chair, and found the president dead in his chair, his neck snapped and a knife protruding from his chest. The crossbow and darts that he'd been holding ready for the assassination tumbled to the ground, thumping on the thick, plush carpet. A man entered the room, wanting to check on his superior, and he flicked on the lights. Schwarz was still being cloaked, and all he saw was Omi, standing over the dead body of his boss.

Nagi recognized the face from the library, and barely stifled a gasp. /OMI/ his thoughts were racing. Schuldig frowned at him, then blinked several times like his vision had gone out. Omi could only stare as the man growled. "What have you DONE?" he demanded. There was a length of metal by the door where someone had carelessly dropped it after working on the lights. He snatched it up, and advanced on Omi. Omi scrambled for his crossbow, but the man kicked it out of his reach and stepped on the darts, crushing them.

/Shit.../ Omi thought, at almost the exact time Nagi did. Schuldig would have found it amusing had his vision not been blinking on and off. It was starting to worry him. Crawford kept a tight grip on Nagi's shoulder, keeping him from moving to aid the white assassin. Farfarello watched impassively. The man swung out with the metal bar, striking Omi full across the face. The blow sent him reeling, and he'd spun a few times before hitting the floor. Stars exploded before him when he was hit, and he shook his head, trying to clear it. Another blow landed on his spine, knocking the feeling from his legs momentarily. Omi pulled himself along with his hands, reaching for his crossbow, and Nagi helped him along, hating the fact that he couldn't do more. He'd just met Omi as a friend, and was now forced to watch him get beaten.

Omi snatched up the crossbow and fired, but his aim was off, his head still reeling from the blow to his face. He pulled himself up using the dead man's desk, and fired again, but the man had lost it, and the bolt merely scraped his arm. Omi couldn't get another one loaded fast enough, and the man thrust the metal bar up into him like it was a sword. Omi choked as pain overwhelmed him, flooding his body. He went limp, held up only by the pipe in the man's hand. The man kicked him off, sending him stumbling backwards. Blood was pouring from the hole in his stomach. The man sat down on his 'bosses' lap and stabbed himself with the knife, ending his own life in the process. Nagi stepped forward, just as Schuldig lurched to one side, staying upright only due to the fact that Farfarello had caught him. The cloaking melted off and Omi had enough time to see Nagi coming towards him, and Schwarz behind him before he fell, everything going black.

/The happiest day of my life... Is the day that I die.../

End

What do you think? I have PLANS for this, and will try not to abandon it before i finish. Please review, because that makes me happy, and knowing that people LIKE it makes me want to write more.

The lyrics are from Good Charlotte, "The Day That I Die." obviously. This was a song-inspired fic, but not a song fic, so just expect lyrics and whatnot to feature HEAVILY in here.