Author's Notes: I was a bit iffy about posting this. Typically, the histories of Schu are traumatizing and terrible, that and his name is often Christian. Why Christian? Anyway, I decided to take a different route, since all my research revealed was…well, very little.
Even so, I'm half-expecting to get some kind of horrible review for my troubles.
Also, as a warning, the rest of this story is going to be moving really fast for the sake of convenience.
Zoe and Scotty are talking at me, so my train of thought is now quite dead. Sorry, I know I had something else to say, but I need to go beat the crap out of them.
Zoe is whispering, "Ex-tra flo-naze" in the Escaflowne theme song…Die Zoe.
4
The winter had come and stayed. Schuldig had recovered in a matter of weeks, my own mental health following close behind. Seems he was right, that my dysfunction could be more or less controlled when he had a watch on it. Since he's become well again, I haven't had any other problems but for some mild forgetfulness.
Brushing my teeth was never a favorite habit. I can't help it if it makes my gums bleed, I've hated it since boyhood. Only reason I bother now that I'm getting old (well, I feel old) is because Schuldig won't come near me if I haven't.
"Because you eat all that cabbage and onion shit! Your breath can get pretty ripe, you know," Schuldig growled as he nursed his coffee mug. I shrugged and flipped his pancakes over. Once I'm finished with his, I've got to cook for the rest of the house…Ugh.
"You're not a bed of roses yourself, sweetheart," I snorted as I dumped his food onto a plate and handed it to an enlisted helper to put out on the table. The boy, well, teenager, looked between us, eyes wide with slight discomfort. One would think he's never seen homosexuals before…
Of course he has…he was in Esset, of course. In desperate times and close quarters, boys do some pretty dumb shit they wouldn't do in other conditions…sex and drugs are popular with suicide a close follower.
"Stop thinking depressing shit. It's too early for it."
"Too early to listen to you whining," I snapped back and handed the boy a plate piled high with pancakes, "Here, boy, take that out to the dining room, then come back. We've got six more plates to fill before we can eat too."
The boy nodded and left. Schuldig dumped syrup onto his pancakes while I spooned batter onto the pan. "And no running off, Schu. I'll need you later."
His ears seemed to perk, and his eyes peeked out from behind his freshly grown curls, blue and hopeful. I half thought to hand him a bone and pat his head from that look.
"Oh really, now?" he purred, "Whatever for?"
"I'm not cleaning this kitchen by myself, Schu."
His shoulders seemed to sag, just a little, and he poked at his food.
"Not what you were hoping?" I asked as I flipped the frying dough.
"Certainly not."
It was February. Even in Japan it was the coldest month of the year. I was unhappy to see the snow coming. It would cover all the gravel around the house, mute noises, make it easier to sneak up on the house.
Maybe I was just being paranoid…again…
It never hurt to be, though, and I was out every hour salting the area close around the house. The hem of my kimono was soaked, my hair littered with white flakes, my face red with the bitter cold. I hated it, every minute of it. I hated snow.
Nagi didn't, though. He and Schuldig would go out and build snowmen when we had the house, have snowball fights, and come in totally wet and frozen. I always ended up making them cocoa, though I always said I wouldn't, and we always curled up on the living room floor in front of the TV to warm up again.
Schuldig's arms slid over my shoulders from behind and he pressed his mouth against my ear. His chest was warm on my back, his breath gusting by my face in a white cloud.
"No unhappy thoughts or you can't fly," he whispered, "We'll find them. It's why Nox and Dementia's away…"
He was right. I'd sent them out to find information about the boy and our leader soon as I was well enough to give orders. Strangely, Nox had listened…
Apparently, we were still the head of this whole renegade anti-enterprise. Even though our most stable and our most capable team mates weren't present, Schwartz was still in control of what we'd started almost a year ago.
Schuldig's lips curled into a smile and he pressed them against my chilly ear.
"Empowering thought, isn't it, Far? We crazies in power…Man, what a mind fuck."
"That is hardly a mind fuck…more of a mind blow…" I murmured as I spread some more salt. Schuldig snorted and let me go, cold air now pressing against my back. I turned to face him, tucked into layer after layer of blue silk, the folds of his kimono draped over his shoulders as carelessly as he could manage without freezing to death. I could see the bone-white skin of his collarbone flashing out from under the cloth as he turned to me, folding his arms over his chest.
"What?" Schuldig muttered, eyeing me. I sniffed and turned away, trying to ignore my suddenly dry mouth.
I could almost taste his smirk.
"I've lost feeling in my fingers…let's go get some tea," I said, dumping the bag of salt onto the porch and climbing up after it, kicking off my shoes and socks and lifting the soaked hem of my robes. Whenever my ankles touched the icy cloth, I shivered…
I really couldn't feel my hands…
Schuldig followed, smirking like the Mastermind I knew. I was comforting to see him creep out the other operatives as we passed them for our shared room. No one questioned us, asked us where we were going or offered us help. It was nice.
I slipped into our room and Schuldig shut the door behind us. It was dark and very cold, the only light was the pale sunlight filtering through the rice-paper walls. I had trouble matching colors for a fresh outfit and was holding them up to my eye so I could see better when Schuldig took hold of my hands. His fingers were so warm I wondered if he'd left them in the house while he was outside. He looked up at me with such an expression I almost expected him to lick his lips in some kind of cat-triumph.
"I can warm you up," he purred, leaning close to me, his nose inches from mine. His kimono shifted off his shoulder, red freckles sprayed like paint on his milky skin. I refused to gulp, to give him that fresh tidbit of satisfaction, but I wanted to…
That he could do that to me now, turn me back into a teenager after all these years…Once upon a time a look from him was enough to send me straight to his bed…
It wasn't much different now…
He leaned in, pressed his mouth to mine, his arms curling around my neck to make sure I didn't pull away, to disperse any thoughts of running away. Even now I had them…Sometimes…
"You're such a controlling prick," I growled against his mouth and he laughed.
"Why do you think they call me 'Mastermind?'" he replied, "Of course, you have your share of moments…like now…"
/You're so beautiful/
"Don't be ridiculous, Schu," I laughed, "There isn't one good feature about me."
His hands were inside my kimono now, opening the obi and pulling the silk off, layer by heavy layer. I shivered in the cold air and watched him undress too…
He was so thin and pale he almost glowed…Like some kind of god…
/You're beautiful to me and that's all that matters,/ was the replying thought. I sighed and crawled under the futon to escape the cold, my redhead close behind to lie against me.
How cliché…
/Lack of better words, my love,/ And now he was getting melodramatic… "You steal my thoughts away like shells into the grip of the sea!"
"Save your breath," I said with a smirk, "I believe you'll need it."
"Oh, ho?"
Schuldig's hands were always something to see, with long, tapered fingers and thin wrists, they were almost feminine in their beauty. If only he'd stop cracking his knuckles, they'd shrink and look less like a colt's legs…Even through threat of old age arthritis, he'd always cracked his knuckles…
"They're my father's hands," Schuldig sighed, picking up on my thoughts and holding his hand out to look at it, "They're all I remember of him, really…and the music…Always the music…"
I cocked my head. Schuldig had never spoken of his family. I had always through it rude to ask, seeing as he'd never volunteered anything. Perhaps this was the time, at last to know…
He looked at me and smiled, "I know you're curious…"
"Of course I am," I said with a smile, rolling onto my stomach and propping myself up on my elbows, "Would it be all right to ask?"
"I'm surprised you didn't ask sooner…Go ahead."
I smiled wider and ran my fingers over his shoulder, down his arm, lifting his hand to my face again.
"Your parents? Who were they? Where were they from? Why did they let you go?" I asked, my words barely loud enough to hear, like a prayer…
Schuldig smiled, but something broken flickered in his eyes…something terribly sad made the gold in his eyes flicker.
"My father was a composer, a concert pianist, though only locally renown. He's the one who picked my name, after his favorite maestro…" A laugh, a sigh. "Johann…what an awful name, how common, how crude…" He laughed again and continued, "My mother was a singer who had married my father after seeing him during a concert. She had the most beautiful hair…It was so red it looked like phoenix fire…She died…when I was very young. Killed by some drunk driver while crossing the street home from the conservatory…"
Schuldig paused, something deep inside of him welling with pain. I could feel it, see it. I pressed my hand to his chest in silent comfort and didn't urge him to go on. I didn't ask him to stop either…
"My father tried his best to raise me, but making ends meet was hard then. Berlin was not a friendly place to intellectuals and musicians while the Russians were there, before the wall came down…He had to work two jobs, started teaching music to whatever students were left at the conservatory.
"When I hit puberty, my power showed up, just a little at a time, just quiet voices from time to time. Then they got louder, wouldn't go away and I couldn't get any peace. My father thought I was crazy, and as bad off as we were, how stretched his nerves were, I guess I understand why he sent me to an asylum. Even so…
"I never saw him after that. I was quickly picked up by Esset. Last I'd heard he had committed suicide a week before the wall was torn down. Another week and he could've gone back to composing…poor dumb bastard…"
I was frowning now, wishing I had something to say, wishing I wouldn't sound like an idiot if I apologized for asking…
Schuldig silenced my unsaid thoughts by pulling me into an embrace and burying his face in my hair. A long sigh that sounded a little shaky and he spoke again.
"Haven't told anyone that before…Didn't seem real until just now…"
"I'm-"
"Don't be sorry, just hold me a while?"
I smiled. "I can do that…Johann."
Schuldig grumbled, "Never, ever call me that again…or I'll…dump ice down your shirt when you aren't looking."
I smiled.
Sharpened knives were what I preferred to use on my hair. I was somehow more proficient with knives than scissors, and I didn't trust anyone with sharp things near my head. I had to be protective of my last eye, after all, since I was more a sight than scent hound.
Hank after hank of pale blonde hair came off in my hand under the blade, what was left was cut two inches from my scalp. I let the hair fall into the sink so I could scoop it out later without having to bend over. When I was finished, I ran a hand over my hair, turned left and right to make sure it was even, and smiled, pleased. It looked fine, a little like a stylized asylum shave…
It was already standing up on its own.
I mixed a bowl of bleach and scooped the stinking white cream into my hair. I smoothed my hair against my head like a gentleman from the twenties and smirked at Schuldig. He'd been watching, commenting about how he didn't want me to cut my hair, knowing he was being useless. I didn't mind. I liked having a witness.
I'm sure he was there to make sure I didn't slit my wrists or anything stupid like that.
"There's some for you, if you miss the blonde so much," I offered, holding the bowl of bleach out and laughing. His nose twitched and he turned away to pat his too-short bangs into some kind of presentable look. It didn't work. His hair was messy no matter how much oil or water he put on it. I think his combing it made it worse.
I never knew it was so curly. It was hilarious. He reminded me of a poodle.
He glared at me and I snorted. I checked to see if my hair was back to normal and bent my head into the sink to wash the bleach out. When I looked up, I saw the flash of silver-white that was my hair. It was better. I liked it like this. I didn't feel so much like Jei anymore.
Jei was weak. He wasn't needed as of now. Farfarello still had work to do. I could be Jei some other day.
Now to do my eyebrows…
"Make sure the carpet matches the drape, would you, love?" Schuldig muttered as he left.
"Only when you do, cupcake," I snapped back.
"Oh, but they do." A smile. A hand at his zipper already. "Wanna see?"
"I know," I growled and painted the burning stuff onto my eyebrows. This was the first time I felt more than tingling…Ouch. "I'd rather you not be in the hallway if you're going to drop your trousers. No need for anyone else to see you flashing your thing around. That's mine."
"Oh? I don't think you're name's on it," was Schuldig's smart-ass reply. I raised one eyebrow and looked at him. I knew how to make tattoos…
"I can remedy that."
Schuldig smirked and put his hands up in surrender.
"Thanks, but no thanks."
"One day," I smirked, "One day I'm going to have my name tattooed on you…somewhere."
"Oh, branding. How possessive…Are you going to eat my fling's hearts as well?"
"Hearts? No, I'll save that for you. I want their livers for sweetbreads."
We laughed.
I've no clothes of my own. All I can find are those damn kimonos. They aren't terrible, really kind of comfortable, just hard to move in if I want to get somewhere quickly. And nowadays I seem to be running everywhere.
Nox is keeping us updated. He's found Nagi's whereabouts. Just yesterday he sent a team in to get him and to destroy the headquarters. I haven't heard from him for a few hours, and both Schuldig and I are horribly worried. We were so tense we started fighting, so I left to make myself some tea and hover over the telephone.
It rang just as the kettle whistled. I shut off the stove and ran for the phone.
"Nox?!"
"We have Prodigy. Target terminated. The boy will be on the plan there soon as we have a doctor look at him."
"How is he?!" I couldn't seem to speak lower than a scream.
"He's undernourished, and a little beat up, but nothing else physical. His mind, though, I don't know. Mastermind will have to look at him. I can't seem to get through his shields. Some of the best I've seen. Did Mastermind train him?"
"Yeah…When can we expect him?"
"I will call you soon as we put him on the plane. I have to go now."
"Yes…Godspeed, Nox…"
"Godspeed…"
Click. I hung up and ran to Schuldig, forgetting the tea.
Schu was already in the hallway, looking for me, tears in his eyes. He reached for my shoulders and smiled at me.
"They found him?" he asked even as he picked my mind. I fed him the conversation and he smiled wider. "I'll look at him the moment he gets here…We should go to the airport and get him ourselves."
"Yes," I agreed, my hands lifting his from my shoulders and squeezing them. I couldn't seem to stop smiling.
I couldn't seem to stop thanking God.
Nox was right, the boy was thinner than I'd ever seen him. I wondered how he stood without help. His arms hanging at his sides from his tee shirt were slender enough for my to wrap my fingers around and snap in two. He smiled at me when he saw me, and fell into Schuldig's and my arms.
"It's okay, Nagi," I sighed into his dirty hair, matted so badly it would have to be cut.
"I didn't tell them anything. They tried…they tried to break my shields, but I didn't let them," Nagi said in Japanese, his voice broken with relief against my chest. Schuldig lifted his hair off his forehead and examined a patched cut there, his eyes boring deep into his mind.
"Let me in?" Schuldig asked softly. Nagi nodded and shut his eyes. I knew he was dropping his mental shields as he sighed. A moment later and Schuldig opened his eyes again. "Thank you. You're fine up there. We don't have to take you home with a bag over your head now." He smiled.
Nagi smiled softly too and let Schuldig wrap an arm over his shoulders and lead him to the car. I was smiling, my hands in my newly-found jeans pockets as I walked with them. The black car was waiting for us.
Once we were settled in the plush seats of the car, Nagi's short fingers were at my hair, his mouth open slightly as he looked at me.
"You're hair's normal…" he said.
I smiled and nodded. Schuldig was already smoking a cigarette and made a nasty face at me.
"And it looks awful. I told him not to, but he never listens to me," our redhead sneered nastily.
"I listen, I just choose not to obey," I replied calmly.
Fin Chapter 5
Please Review
Author's Notes: Because Scotty keeps reminding me, I have to do some shameless self-advertising. Let's see if fanfiction dot evil even let's be post this:
Please visit the site of Scotty and my comic's website. The homepage should be on the profile and if it isn't, it will be soon. SO! Go look on my bio, click the link and it should work.
That is all.
To My Readers:
Rori Barton: Yeah, Fanfiction's being evil. Thankfully, not anymore. I'm glad you liked it, though personally I thought it was a bit deep in sap. It was interesting to write, I kept laughing like an idiot.
Yes! We gets points! (celebrates)
TheInflictedFinger: Are readers allowed to drop-kick original characters? (laughs) Don't' be mean, though, Nox can't help himself…and he's useful…somehow.
Thank you
StarTrekObsessed: LONG review…wow!
I'm not glad I cut my hair. It looks awful now. My friends won't stop laughing at it. I did that once, cut my own hair as a kid. It was in fourth grade history class, in class, no mirror. It was hilarious. The mullet was another infamous hair mistake, on the part of my ex-hairdresser. It's also something my friends still laugh at.
Odd? She's a hallucination…so…wouldn't Farfarello be to odd one? I'm glad it made you laugh.
I'm still trying to cut off belief in Jesus…actually, I'm trying to get rid of the Catholic infestation I've got…(shutters). Even so, I'm the one who answers Catholic questions from all of my atheist and protestant friends…and one of them is Quaker, not sure what that is…
Buffy reference…I never watched Buffy and thankfully never will. The Star Trek references are kind of going over my head too. You'd have to talk to my father for that one.
I didn't read Wreaththu for the ideas. I read it for the sex. Wish it was something more, well, intellectual, but that's what Nietzsche is for, I suppose.
Dishes? Man, I'm not even allowed to so much as touch the dishes in my house. My mother's…quirky like that…
Yeah, we'll go with quirky.
Rahima: Hey, fan mail, reviews, I'm happy for either. Good to hear you like my story! Thank you.
Caethes: If you eventually get to this point and find your name. Thank you for the review! I am flattered that I've impressed you so much.
Fullmetalguitar: I get a lot of sleepy reviews. I find that amusing. Good to hear form you again.
I liked how he ignored Nox too, it was fun and very Schu-like. After all Nox put through Farfarello through and then to have Schu nod him out of the room was wonderful. I'm glad you liked it.
Ironic? Yes and no. Farfarello is very slowly starting to accept God, if not the church. He probably won't ever go back to the church (who would?), but perhaps bring back some distant belief in God? Not to say he had managed to ignore Him completely, considering his life's work to somehow destroy Him, at least in some minute references. That, and Farfarello has a tendency to blame God for the bad things in his life that he can't pin on Ruth.
YES! Someone liked my Kill Bill references! (dances) You've made my day.
Let's see how long you can hold onto that denial. If and when your world comes crashing on your head, do tell me. I'm interested in personal tragedies…grew up on Greek plays, after all.