Cruel Justice

*

on candystripe legs spiderman comes
softly through the shadow of the evening sun
stealing past the windows of the blissfully dead
looking for the victim shivering in bed
searching out fear in the gathering gloom and
suddenly! a movement in the corner of the
room! and there is nothing i can do when i
realise with freight that the spiderman is having
me for dinner tonight

quietly he laughs and shaking his head creeps
closer now closer to the foot of the bed and
softer than shadow and quicker than flies his
arms are all around me and his tongue in my
eyes "be still be calm be quiet now my precious
boy don't struggle like that or i will only love
you more for it's much too late to get away or
turn on the light the spiderman is having you
for dinner tonight"

and i feel like i'm being eaten by a thousand
million shivering furry holes and i know that in
the morning i will wake up in the shivering cold
and the spiderman is always hungry...

- "Lullabye", The Cure

*

The fading light of the setting sun shone over the high-rises of Tokyo, bathing them in the gold light as evening started settling over the metropolis. In the day the city was a busy, bustling press of people moving through the city about their own lives, little caring of the environment around them and never knowing of those who strive to keep it that way. It was a city of crime and pain, but it was a city like any other. Whether or not that was a good or bad thing was an unknown. It simply was. In the day it was blinding bright and glaring, a place where people lived and worked and sometimes it seemed nothing more. But in the early dusk light, with the light of the day still lingering though the tinges of night were creepy over the city, it was something more. The golden rays of the sun as it finally sunk into the Tokyo Bay washed over the buildings and waves brushing the shore, giving Tokyo an almost heavenly glow before that too would fade into the void of black night.

It was this time of day that one resident of Tokyo preferred above all, the day ending to bring the night where he worked, where he was as close to his true self as he could ever dream to once more be. It was the night that embraced this man now, giving him the cover of shadows to do as he chose due to his ill fate life gave to him. There was something about the black velvet sky and the white diamond stars scattered over the dome sky that was more... honest and truthful than the glaring bright day. Perhaps because he did not have to show the false face of merely a florist to the world. No... The cover of night with only the moonlight streaming down allowed him to slip through the shadows, the glint of his blade showing before a wash of red. Mission. Then a return to the home he knew now to sleep... to put away the false face of icy silence and fall to nightmares of his crimes and dreams of his life returning to how it once was.

It was through the gentle almost peaceful quiet that two walked side by side, Fujimiya Aya's hands in the pockets of his dark black slacks, a white button down shirt covering his torso. The silver cross hanging about his neck caught the lights in the city, the streetlights giving him almost an angel's glow on his porcelain skin and dark red hair contrasting against his natural pale complexion. At his side walked the true angel of Weiß, Tsukiyono Omi, but for once the two were not moving towards a mission site, stealthily sticking to the shadows. Aya's gait was the same, a graceful step to his walk like that of a cat he was named for, moving easily through the night as it claimed its assassin hunters that prowled in its darkness.

Instead of moving through the darkening streets of Tokyo as nameless and faceless assassins, hiding in the shadows to do their work unseen, the pair moved as part of the population they protected. And Aya for the life of him didn't know why he had agreed to do this, not really. He seldom went out at night, preferring the solitude and company of a book, something that wouldn't ask him questions or annoy him by interrupting the quiet silence he found comfort and familiarity in. The four members of Weiß would actually probably never be moving through Tokyo in secret, clad in their assassin gear and weapons ready, for Weiß was no longer. Persia, the giver of missions and for all intents and purposes, was dead. Aya's own reason for taking missions as Takatori Reiji had been dead a little under a month. Weiß had completed a mission a week ago of eliminating a small drug ring that was evidenced to have been in Reiji's control and since then... nothing. All evidence of his controlling corrupt reign were quickly disappearing at the bladed, clawed, wire, and darted hands of the white assassins.

A soft sigh passed over the redhead's surprisingly soft rosen lips before they were pressed tightly into a thin line once more, a glance given to the boy at his side. Why did he allow him to talk him into coming with him... He still had matters to take care of. Since his revenge on the one who had framed his parents and struck down his dear sister had been extracted, he had no more business in Tokyo and did not wish to stay. He already had arrangements made to move Aya-chan to a different hospital and he had found a small apartment that would suit him fine in a small city by the oceanfront. He had arrangements to make, things to do, a few personal items still to pack...

Omi had tried to arrange a 'night out' for the four members, hearing about a festival in town he thought they would all enjoy. Little did the youngest member of Weiß know that it was the same annual festival he had accompanied his imouto to... all those years ago. How he let himself get dragged to this he really had no idea. Aya had been hoping that Ken and Youji would agree to go and Omi would be appeased and he could conveniently slip away and not go. But missions and such had not allowed them to go until tonight, the last night the festival was happening. The same night Youji had a hoooot hoooot HOOOT date he just could not cancel and Ken's soccer team he coached had a championship game. Which left the katana expert as the only one who could accompany the hacker assassin. He should have said no and left it at that. Held firm, his decision unchangeable. He should have just ignored the question or glared at Omi for even thinking he'd want to go out. He was Fujimiya Aya-kun after all. Antisocial. Cold. Hater of everything. He did not did not did not want to go to a festival. Especially this one.

Damn Omi.

He found his weakness. He didn't even know how the boy did it. He didn't even think he had a weakness. He'd said no and was going to leave it at that... and then he made the mistake of looking into those bright blue eyes of the genki member of Weiß. It was some kind of curse, really it was. The boy could guilt trip like no other, use that sweet innocence and cheer to get whatever he wanted even from the most stoic and uncaring person flinch to see those eyes half lid shut and that sweet face falter in disappointment. Omi had shuffled his feet and murmured that he would just go alone... but it was ok really! He'd have fun and hoped that Aya had a good night too!

Damn damn Omi.

Using the excuse that it had slipped his mind but he had actually finished the book he was currently reading (when in fact he had another 56 pages or so) he agreed reluctantly to go. It was something about those eyes... they reminded him far too much of his sister's gaze, reflecting every emotion in them, happy or sad, for the world to openly see. The excitement in the boy's eyes, lighting up his face to hear the male agree to going with him, was incomparable to anything else. It was moments like this he hated, when the others of Weiß were able to strike something in him even if they didn't know it. He kept it hidden of course, not wanting to enjoy their company and let himself try to be happy... he had given up feeling and living, living on for his sister until she awoke again. He had lost so many so quickly, and killing Reiji hadn't fixed it. It hurt, and if he drew close to anyone else, he knew it would just hurt more when they were injured or he had to leave. Which was why he was planning on leaving Tokyo in roughly a week's time. There was no reason for him to stay.

"Here we are..." he said in his soft deep tones barely above a whisper as the two stood at the bottom of the ascending stone steps leading to the entrance of the festival. The silent assassin kept his deep orchid blushed gaze away from Omi as he gazed up at the stairs, able to hear the patter of rain and his sister's laughter over it in his ear from two years ago... the last time she had been with him, before her smile was taken from her and his went with it.

Unknowing, and thus completely unrealizing, of the significance that Aya held to the festival that was awaiting them, Omi found it difficult to contain the wide smile that persistently tried to plaster itself over his forever bright features. This was the kind of thing he rarely got a chance to, living the life of an assassin, and only that, tended to kill off anything remotely resembling fun. Much less anything on the scale of a full festival.

There was no way to lie successfully about it; Omi had been looking forward to this night and festival for too long now. The past few months had been rough on all of them, but there were the occasional moments where he succumbed to selfishness and wondered if, perhaps, he had been hit worst of all. First with the memories that knowing Shota and being involved with helping the boy through his ordeal had brought, and then finding out the bitter truth that he'd had a family, once, and a name that was not Omi. And further, the more biting hurt of knowing that his own father had not paid a ransom he could have easily afforded. Then finding out about Masafumi, and enduring the painful migraines that had haunted him when memories tried to resurface, only have to his own instinct of self defense shove them away in an endless battle, to save him from the pain of the heart, from the pain of a little boy who had been abandoned into a world of cold darkness by his own blood. Even then, beyond that, there was the incident of discovering Hirofumi and thus his true heritage, as spoken by the other Takatori; Omi had been finding himself torn on everything, right down to the point where he had turned on Weiß itself to protect the one he thought his loving brother. A loving brother who had, not even a week later, beaten him for information and key secrets of the organization Omi worked for. And even Ouka... Who had died just because she had known and been blood relation to the young assassin. The young assassin who'd had to move on and watch his newly found uncle die in his arms, and then watch his own father be cut apart by the blade of the one who stood beside him now.

So, yes, sometimes he did think that he had been the worst hit; to have found and not only lost, but been the main hand responsible in killing his own family certainly lent to that thought. As did his occasional depression, which carried through only when he was alone with himself, having the time to merely think back on it all and feel each and every hurt again and again. It was a wonder that he could even find the spark of energy in him that allowed him to don that mask of happiness that all knew him for. Then again, on his worst days, he didn't succeed in that, merely deciding to rest in his room and claim exhaustion, which was often true enough. After all, he lived on a habit of keeping himself too busy to think; when he couldn't think, he couldn't reflect, thus he didn't have to face the pain that was his past. Save that, when he kept himself to busy, he grew too tired to do much, then making all claims to exhaustion true. And the past few months had held him claiming that so often that it ceased to hold the slightest humor or refuge. Merely a tired young killer with no family and few friends beyond the borders of Weiß.

Weiß. His life and friends. A ragtag group of people with pasts they seemed to wish to forget, and with members who sometimes seemed envious that Omi did forget his, by choices made years ago, and reaffirmed with the helpful talk of one Manx. It wasn't the most stable environment to put a kid, much less to put one as the leader of such a group, but it had happened and worked out. And as odd as his friends might have been, they were still his friends. Even the cold-seeming Aya, the one that Omi had feared losing his friendship to because of his blood ties, was his friend (in as close as a sense that the katana-wielding assassin would allow), as confirmed by the ruby-haired male's statement that the boy was Tsukiyono Omi, not Takatori Mamoru. A statement that Omi still sometimes doubted, but tried to hold true.

"Baka!"

Admonishing himself aloud, Omi shook his head to clear it of the depressing thoughts, stretching his arms skyward and taking a deep breath of the cooling night air. This was to be a night of fun, not depression. he'd managed to cajole Aya into going with him as well, thus he just HAD to make it a great night, if only to prove to the other that his decision to attend the festival had been the right one. So, fun it was going to be!

Pushing the sleeves of his too-long, deep red sweatshirt up so that his hands were actually visible, the genki teen grinned up at Aya and nodded. "We're here, finally!" he announced in agreement. "Now, Aya-kun, stop staring at it and let's go before the fun's all gone!" With that, Omi was off, trying to run up the steps two at a time, but not before grabbing Aya's wrist and attempting to tug the elder male along with him.

As the two stood there in their contemplations, Omi on the losses in the past few months, Aya thinking on his losses from years ago, the crimson haired male didn't even notice that he was unconsciously pulling on the gold dangle earring from his left earlobe. His own thoughts of course moved to his imouto, lying alone and still in a hospital a few miles away while he was here, at the festival which had meant so much to her that much like Omi, she had dragged him beloved oniichan to it. Just a bit more willingly than Omi had found the redhead to be. His eyes fluttered shut as he heard the sounds of the festival floating down through the cool night air, a touch of winter temperatures still in the air once the sun went down. As spring settled more over the city it would dispel but there would always that cool in the air. Until the unbearable heat of the Tokyo summer.

His attention got pulled from his own thoughts of Aya-chan and how he shouldn't be here without her... a festival she loved and always waited every year for... when Omi's loud cheerful voice suddenly broke the silence. Blinking in mild confusion he started to part his lips to ask why Omi had called himself a baka only to urk lightly as he was pulled by the boy's hand. He had incredible strength Aya felt as he was pulled up the stairs, his long legs easily taking the steps two at a time. The sweet sound of his own sister's voice rising in his mind, the girl begging the crimson haired male to 'hurry up hurry up! There's fun to be had, food to eat, things to shop for!' Cursing softly he bitterly reminding himself that Omi was not his sibling despite the similar sweet nature and bright eyes and it was stupid for him to constantly be comparing the two just because of similar events.

Getting to the top of the stairs, he withdrew his hand from Omi's hold, slipping it back into his pocket as he glanced about the festival. Far too many memories assaulting him. Dammit why did he come. Dammit why did Omi have to just look so grateful for him coming, like he was looking forward to his company? He really wasn't great company. He couldn't stand himself sometimes. "Where to first, Omi... and don't say 'everywhere'."

*

~Naaaaaaaaaaaaaggles, mein Gott(1*) I'm bored! Entertain me!~ came the nasally almost whining tones across town in the Schwarz's new base with SZ, the Space Room. Schuldich padded through the room heading for the desk where a dark haired boy was typing furiously at... something. He didn't know. He was bored. German telepaths being bored is always a bad thing. Even though he was a prick, Reiji being dead kinda sucked. Usually on dull evenings he entertained himself by hunting down the minds of prospective clients of Takatori Enterprises and gave them sudden doubts about investing with Reiji's corporation. What a surprise their old boss got come morning when prospective clients he thought he'd had the deal perfectly closed with backed out.

Hehe.. beat Schuldich with a gold club will he? He found ways of revenge he couldn't be pinpointed for.

But with Reiji dead, all of his old clients were quickly being picked off. Which left a very bored telepath. Awwww.

Shrugging lightly in thought, Schuldich flopped down to lean against the corner of the desk, glancing down at Nagi. "I'm bored Munchkin. Braddy's at some dumb meeting with SZ agents, Farfarello is hunting down some clergy. Just you and me tonight. I hate being cooped up. So we're going out." Grinning lightly, "Are we going to do this the nice way, or the hard way. I can enjoy either way."

There was an almost visible twitch in the form of Naoe Nagi as the telepath both sat on his working desk and spoke the words as he had, completing two of the most dangerous tasks known to man: speaking with the telekinetic and encroaching on his space without invite. People had been smashed into walls for far less; it was a wonder that Schuldich had not a broken nose yet. Then again, with the sometimes crooked twist of the German's nose, one could guess that it had met such a broken fate before. Possible even by meeting with a wall, or a book, or something being propelled by an unseen hand. One never knew, and Schuldich would never admit to having his ass, and pride, kicked by a boy who was around six years younger than himself.

"Where are we going out to, and when are we leaving." There was no defiance in his voice this evening, Nagi having recently been reminded by the telepath that none of his secrets were safe, and that such secrets tended to get out when one didn't go along with the German's wants and plans. However, knowing that did not stop the teen from giving the telepath a powerful telekinetic shove to get him off his desk as he worked about completing his current set of program codes. Damn, what a perfectly good evening wasted, having to be drug about with the telepath uselessly. This... was gonna suck, and not in the method that Schuldich often liked to imply. "And why can't you go out alone, Schuldich?"

*

The genki boy's mouth promptly shut, containing the 'Everywhere' answer he had been about to utter. Trying to pout, he crossed his arms and gave the other male a lot and soft 'pfft' for his comment. However, despite his best attempts to sulk at the shooting down of his answer, the youth couldn't hide the smile in his eyes as he looked about at it all, vibrant energy that was hiding in sapphire depths, waiting to be released. "Mou, Aya-kun, you restrict things too much!" he complained, his voice light and teasing. "Since you're going to be so demanding... Let's grab a snack and just look around!"

Another mad snatch was made for one of Aya's limbs as the boy started forward. There was just so much to see, do, and be a part of, and he didn't want to let any of it slip past him. This was the last possible night to be doing this, and he very much did NOT want to miss out. If that meant he had to drag Aya to ever last table and vendor, he would. Omi was out to have fun with his friend, before Weiß fell apart and he ended up alone once more.

Instead of getting his hand Omi grabbed his elbow and it was with a soft sight that Aya allowed himself to be dragged along by the younger assassin-florist. The boy was almost tiring to watch, with all his youthful bright energy. It amazed him that Omi could look at the world with such sweet innocence even though he of all people knew what a horrible place it was. When Aya first joined Weiß he pitied Omi like he'd pitied no one in his life because he was sure that one day some trauma would happen and ruin Omi's cheerful look on the world. He would be jaded, bitter... him. The change of states and personality from Fujimiya Ran to Fujimiya Aya-kun was not an easy one but it was a state that the redhead knew he had to uphold lest he be hurt and near broken by the cruel world once more.

But Omi had been hit by almost every cruel irony ever in existence... the painful regaining of his memories only to find out that he was related to the many of the ones they hunted, perhaps their worst targets. That he was in the wretched line of Takatoris... Something that had hit Aya hard and personally, to know that he was working with the very son of the man who ruined his life. The fact that he had respected and admired the boy's persistent and dedication to Weiß... only to find out that the boy he respected was a Takatori was a revelation that weighed heavy on Aya for a long time. To trust him as Weiß, or hunt him along with the rest of the Takatoris? The decision had been easy though once Omi had made his own decision. That to be Tsukiyono Omi, not Takatori Mamoru.

Still after everything, after Hirofumi and Masafumi and Ouka, Omi still had that excitement and love for life. It had been many years since, but there had once been a time that Aya had smiled as openly as Omi always did, smiling at the side of the true Fujimiya Aya. But it was difficult to have excitement for something you had put on pause until you were no longer alone.

Glancing down at the boy's youthful face as they wandered through the milling crowds, he noted the boy's sapphire gaze settling and flaring to life like a blue flame when he saw a small vendor with cotton candy. "Oh no..." Aya said in cool authoritative tones, closing his fingers over the boy's wrist to pull him back before the honey blonde could start heading that way. "I never saw you eat dinner and spun pink sugar is not a suitable meal substitute." Glancing around the festival, his violet eyes skimmed over the vendors quickly, looking for something of any type of substance. Something other than pure sugar. How the boy survived on his diet Aya would never know. How he survived before he came to Weiß he definitely would never know. He'd seen the things Ken and Youji brought home when they went shopping. Ken and his Gatorade and cookies, Youji and his syrups and other things 'not to be touched unless you're getting laid'... Then there was sugar boy, Omi. Aya tried to get the boy to eat something with less than 1/2 sugar content at least once a day. Once a meal if he was really lucky.

*

Allowing himself to be shoved off the desk with little complaint, Schuldich twined a fire strand of hair about his finger as he regarded the telekinetic. Most times when he spoke to Nagi he chose to stick to spoken word, knowing the boy's dislike of mental invasion as his mind was one thing that was his and his alone, but sometimes the German just liked grating him and getting a reaction. He always knew the line between annoyance and getting a glare in response and getting thrown against a wall in response. He only stepped over that line a -few- times. Though he did pester the boy continually, it was a ... Schu-caring type of pestering, his way of looking out for him and making sure he still knew how to stick up for himself. Nagi often stayed behind the rest of Schwarz while in combat, so he often gave him the in-your-face attention that could be deadly to a small bodied telekinetic.

"Leaving as soon as you get to some finishing point on that scribbling you're working on." Peering over, Schuldich just shook his head at the complex coding that only made sense to the Japanese boy. For a moment the notion of lurking around in his head and sipping off his knowledge to get it crossed his mind but he shrugged it off. It didn't matter. Computer work was Nagi's thing. If he really wanted to understand it he could go find some nameless computer programmer to mind rape for the information. Not Nagi.

"There's a festival in town, some annual sakura blossom early spring... thing. Come on, kleiner Junge(2*). It'll be fun. Go remind ourselves how much society sucks and how sheep-like people are. I can mess with some mundane minds, you can make people drop stuff." Lifting up the strand of bright coppery hair to inspect the ends for split ends he knew to not be there, he shrugged at the last question. "Big Boo told me to keep an eye on you while he had that meeting. Can't have you running off unchaperoned to see that Schreiend bunny girl, ja?" Flipping back untamable hair from his face, he pushed his sunglasses back onto their perfect perch. "I'll buy you a caaaaaaaaandy apple," he said in an almost sing-song voice, "if you go."

There were two things that Nagi could not stand. One, was someone, especially Schuldich, knowing of his weakness for candy apples. While not exactly a deadly weakness, it was one of the best and only ways to get the teen to do anything he was even remotely against. And Schuldich, being the inquisitive telepath and generally, um, unique German that he was, had learned that little tell too quickly, and had a growing tendency to use it to get the boy to leave his computer and get some fresh air (which was some sort of air-related fad that Nagi was certain would never catch on). Two, was anyone talking to him about Tot, his little... interest. Especially when they made references to her as a bunny girl. Tot wasn't a bunny girl; well, okay, she wasn't MUCH of one. Besides, he'd not snuck out to see her for a good two weeks, since Schreiend had taken to being on the move and tracking down the aqua-haired young woman was becoming impossible. Much less tracking her down without a certain telepath following him and making comments about how he felt about the pretty young woman. Or a certain Farfarello following and just staring at her with that quiet eye of his, which barely concealed the man's wants and plans to kill the girl as soon as it was allowed. Those two's habits of following him, whether by choice or Crawford's orders, could just grate the wrong way. Especially for a teen who was trying to cling to the last normal thing he might have in life. Love. Whether or not his was true, it was a normal thing in the mind and body of one who was far from such. He wasn't prepared to give up that faint claim to normalcy just yet.

"Fine." A sharp click on the keyboard ended the program, and a few more strikes had the entire computer shutting down as the youth stood up and eyed the telepath. "But there are two conditions..."

Moving around the desk, he attempted to stare down Schuldich, yet proved a very undaunting figure with the other having a good half-foot on his height. "One, you buy me two candy apples," he explained slowly. "And two, you don't say anything to even attempt to embarrass me." Crossing his arms, the boy allowed himself a slight arching of the brow. Schuldich's persuasive and pressuring nature was hard to fight, once the German had his mind on a matter; Nagi could at least figure that the telepath had good intents. Well, whatever qualified as good in the slightly twisted chaos that was Schuldich's mind. "And if you break either of those terms, I use your head to break a new door into the Space Room. Agreed?"

*

There was a startled squeak in the air as Omi was yanked away from his sacred sugar vendor, a surprised look etched on the boy's face. Not a suitable meal substitute? Sure it was! Ken had always let him have it for supper, along with the soccer player's favorite side dish of Frosted Flakes soaked in chocolate milk. It was a perfectly balanced meal, honestly. Sugar, cereal, and sugarfied milk product; how much healthier could they get? Not much, that was certain! And even being that healthy was difficult with Aya and his habit of making them eat so-called healthy foods. Omi honestly couldn't understand the point of eating vegetables. They weren't of the five main food groups; which, of course, were Sugar, Coffee, Soda, Fast Food, and Chips. It ran much the same with protein and breads, they were just weird substances that had no place in a proper teenager's diet. Not that Omi fought having to eat some of these foreign things known as healthy foods, he just tended to avoid it as much as possible. And avoidance didn't seem to be an option tonight, not with Aya's hand clamped around his wrist and dragging him to one of the vendors who sold those faddish things known as good food.

"Can I at least have some of the sugar later, Aya-kun?" he asked pleadingly, trying to incite that little flare of a warmly beating heart that he just knew was in the other. As much as Aya tried to hide it, Omi knew that the other had feelings, emotions, and he'd made it a personal vow to get those to show through more. So far, he'd found anger and bitterness, especially with the Takatori mess, but the boy knew that there had to be happiness somewhere. Why else would Aya still be alive? No one could exist without being happy to some extent; it gave meaning to life. And thus explained why Omi was always trying to cheer everyone else up. When people were happy, they valued life, and didn't destroy it. So, to him, it was far better to be genki than to be emotionless as ice. And it was his personal mission to see that everyone, especially Aya, smiled at least once a day. Unfortunately, he didn't always make the quota with Aya, but at least he tried. Tried time and time again, not knowing all of what made Aya as he was, beyond the fact that his own family had been responsible for ruining the other man's life. Then again, it was that fact that made the boy try so hard to cheer Aya up; he felt responsible, to some level, that another's life had been ruined by his own blood, and wanted thus to make up for it in any sense possible.

"Please? Sugar is some of the healthiest stuff around. Honest, Aya-kun!"

Well, at least he could keep trying.

A dark gaze with the lights of the festival reflecting in his plum colored irises set on Omi at that comment, a crimson eyebrow lifting up elegantly. Did he actually say that? Whoever had taught Omi his nutrition class needed to be handed the new Food Groups Pyramid detailing the proper diet... at the very least. No wonder Aya had been sent to Weiß; before he showed up Manx must have been dealing with assassins doing their killings and information retrieval on constant sugar highs. Fun.

Pulling lightly on Omi's wrist as the press of people threatened to separate them, the redhead sighed faintly and attempted to avert his eyes from the boy's pleading sweet gaze. That's how he got and stayed so sweet. Eating pure sugar all the time. Of course if that theory had any truth to it, it would mean that Aya ate rocks to keep his stone and impassive face as well as sucked on lemons to stay so bitter and angsty. Frowning lightly as another group of people moved by them, he tightened his hold on the youngest of Weiß. Looked like he would be staying holding onto the boy to keep them from getting separated or so Omi couldn't wander off for his beloved sugar. It seemed that all of Tokyo had waited until tonight to go to the carnival as evidenced by the mass of people. There was a mild bit of paranoia in Aya that if Omi got separated from him, it just... wouldn't be good. After the boy had been kidnapped from a very crowded party by Schuldich and brought to his own blood brother to be beaten, Aya had kept a closer eye on the first and youngest white assassin. Mild protectiveness but it was something he couldn't help, never could. The same reason why he had followed Ken with that Kase mission. One, to make sure he wasn't going to tell the target to get away, two, he saw something in Ken's aqua gaze when he watched that TV screen. Something he hadn't liked or trusted. But it had hardly been his teammate he hadn't trusted. Now with Reiji dead and their faces very well known before they had been able to stop that, and with Schwarz out there somewhere and their client dead, it just settled something internally for Aya to keep a close watch on Omi. He was an assassin and able to protect himself, but he was the smallest one and the most trusting of people he maybe just shouldn't trust, though that was a close toss up between the two younger members of Weiß.

It was an overprotective instinct that he had possessed with his sister that extended itself to his teammates in subtle ways, whether they knew it or not. To his dismay. He didn't want to grow close to them in any way!

Continuing to turn over the boy's question in his mind, Aya found a line that sold vegetable wraps and moved into it. A faint smirk touched his lips as he reached a compromise in his mind. "I will make a compromise, Omi. For everything we eat that you pick, I get to pick two things. Deal?"

*

Sighing low and dramatically, Schuldich's emerald gaze met with Nagi's lapis before his eyes rolled skyward. "You ruin all my fun you little Chibi-Brad. Has he been giving you lessons on how to predict my actions?" The telepath's gaze went shifty eyed for a moment as he considered that possibility. Could Brad's precog powers be rubbing off on their youngest so he knew exactly what Schuldich planned to do? No... Nagi just knew that almost every time he went into public with the German he tried to do something to embarrass him. He liked the last time he sicced all the girls on the boy and watched him flail.

"Ja ja, you'll get your two candy apples. But because you're being a little prick I won't ride on the Ferris wheel with you." Giving him a light grin he stared down at the small boy before reaching out to flick his dark bangs from his eyes. "And don't try to intimidate me with your gaze, Nags. We all know you can snap every bone in anyone's body just as I can mushify brains. You don't have to be a little show off." Giving him another grin, this time the corners of his lips turning up in a little smile that spoke of hentai thoughts and yaoi dreams. "But if you wanted to stand close to me and stare dreamily into my eyes... oh Naggles, you could have just told me you cared!"

Twitch.

That was the best way to describe Nagi's reaction to Schuldich's oh-so-carefully phrased statement. A twitch and then a good, strong, invisible shove. As careful as he might have been to avoid crossing the fine line, Schuldich was rapidly approaching it, and greatly increasing his chances of going for a short flight, minus the airplane, minus the parachute. Or perhaps one of those long walks off of short docks into bottomless lakes with cement shoes on. Yes, that would work as appropriate punishment if the German kept it up. But, for now, the recently administered, if overpowered, telekinetic shove would suffice as warning. Again.

"Right, Schuldich," he replied, his tone even. "Believe in that delusion of yours." The urge to roll his eyes was growing a little too hard to resist, so the youth turned about and started to the door. To him, the sooner they left, the sooner they could return, and the sooner he could escape any other taunts that colored his cheeks faint crimson, as the last had. He was not embarrassed. Really. And anyone debating that would find themselves in extremely painful situations of his own devise.

Pausing, he glanced back at Schuldich. "Are you coming?" Arching his eyebrow at the German, he reached out with his powers again, this time pulling the telepath towards him, or to follow him. If Schuldich wasn't going to move, he figured that he had every right to make him. Call it suitable payback for all the times that the telepath used his telepathy to make him have or recall very... non-innocent dreams.

*

(1*) mein Gott - my God

(2*) kleiner Junge - small boy