By. Bento Box
09/23/01
---
The second time Nagi came back to reality, he felt better, more grounded so to speak. Although the flashbacks and previous activities had left him emotionally, mentally, and physically drained, he felt oddly lighter.
Something stirred at the foot of the bed, and Nagi weakly propped on one elbow to peer at whatever it was. Much to his surprise, he found Farfarello curled up on his side, clutching a knife. The Irishman's breathing was deep and steady, and Nagi blinked.
A tiny beam of light chose that moment to peek in through a slit in the curtain drapes, and spread across Farfello's face.
If it hadn't been immorally wrong against Farfarello, Nagi would have said he looked like an angel.
A decidedly strange, oddly dressed, and scarred one, but an angel nonetheless.
A wave of nausea chose that moment to strike and Nagi fell back onto the pillows. Lights flickered in front of his eyes, and his head was beginning to hurt.
But it had been worth it just to see that image of Farfarello looking PEACEFUL and INNOCENT.
Yet, even that perfect image was marred by another.
---
The calculating eyes behind the thin-framed glasses swept over Nagi's fragile features. No emotions flickered over the cool eyes, but Nagi could feel a slight feeling of doubt from the older man before it disappeared.
"Naoe Nagi."
It was a statement, not a question.
"Hai."
He answered anyway.
The cool fingers reached underneath his chin, and he felt an involuntary shiver run up his spine. He hated to be touched.
"So young, so innocent."
Even the voice was cool and emotionless, but nonetheless, it held an underlying tone of irony. "Yet so tainted and dark."
Nagi's dark blue eyes flashed, but he said nothing, neither accepting nor denying the statements.
"You've been accepted to join Schwarz due to your telekinetic abilities. But you will not be going on missions as of yet, for although you posess an amazing control over your powers, you will need to undergo further training to hone your talent to its fullest and most potent abilities. Training will be long in time, and grueling."
Like a judge sentencing his prisoner's fate, Nagi could feel the weight of the American man's words clamp around his wrists, his feet, and every part of him.
Except the part hidden deep inside of him, the part that was always cackling softly and uncontrollably.
Still, Nagi did not feel any hatred, resentment, or anger towards the man. What they had offered him was certainly much more than what the streets offered him.
"I will join Schwarz on its missions soon."
The cold voice belonged to an adult of years beyond years, not to a seven year old boy.
Another piece fell off of him, and another brick around that hidden part of him as he mentally vowed to make the whole world pay for his pain that would never end.
---
He shuddered out of the memory, and wondered briefly if this was similar to what Crawford might feel whenever he'd get one of his visions.
"Awake already kitten?" The German had stepped into the room quietly.
Nagi felt a wave of anger wash over him, and he didn't know where it came from. He shuddered, and tried to contain it, curling up into a tight ball, reminscent of Farfarello's position.
"Nagi?"
The voice actually sounded concerned.
"Nagi? What the hell's wrong? Nagi? Nagi?"
A hand clasped around his shoulder and he jerked instinctively, and felt the nausea return. He didn't want to be touched. He was impure to be touched. The touches were impure to him.
"Damnit Nagi! What the fuck has been going on with you? Fucking shit Nagi, don't make me force my way into your head!"
Schuldig was more than a bit pissed off by his teammates recent bizarre behavior, but there was concern there. Concern? Yes, that's what Schuldig felt now for the younger boy, although he would not go around telling the whole world that.
"God is crying again."
A tawny, golden eye blinked at Schuldig, the face impassive.
"Farf, do you know what the fuck is wrong with him?"
Farfarello did not respond, and his one eye turned onto Nagi. "God cries, and so do others."
The redhead felt like breaking something, and right then, Farfarello's neck would have been a perfect choice. "Will you shut the fuck up with your damn 'God hurts, God shits, God fucks' already?!" The redhead's words were livid and laced with acid. "Argh! Why the fuck didn't Brad tell me something like this was going to happen!"
Nagi felt hopelessly weak, and if he hadn't already been lying down, he would have fallen over. His body felt like liquid, and everything was floating around him.
Schuldig's hand was still on his shoulder, but the revulsion Nagi had earlier felt was gone. Now he felt empty, as always after the emotional attacks.
"What the fuck is going on..."
No one answered the German's muttered whisper and the silence suffused the room with its heaviness.
---
Author's Notes: Sorry again for this part being so short. Ah, this fic seems to be taking off all on its own, ne? ;;;^_^ More OOCness to come!
Italics indicates flashbacks or bizarre mental voices; normal text indicates present tense or memories.
