For an instant, as Nagi stared into the green eyes inches away from his own, he saw nothing but the moss that was Schuldich's soul. He had been something, once, but ever since he had become Schwarz, the moss had begun to grow. It had spread from a miniscule patch over his heart, spread with every kill, with every drop of blood spilled. For every drop of pure red blood there was another patch of dingy green moss. Red and green, flowing to complement each other, flowing to obliterate. Flowing to take away the soul of a man who had once been capable of love, or at least of common decency.

Then the eyes that were tainted with the flowing red and murky green showed a scene Nagi remembered all too well. Red and green. Black and white. Weiß and Schwarz…

********Omi's POV*********

A drop of liquid drips down my cheek. I do not know if it is a drop of blood or a tear. I don't even know if there is a difference anymore. Perhaps tears and blood are the same…

I am sane enough still to know these thoughts are insanity. But still, though I lie here surrounded by an ever-spreading pool of my blood, of my life, that one drop of something on my face seems like the most horrifying thing in the world. I ache to scrape it off my body, to dash my hand across my skin and wipe the liquid away. As though that would make a difference, when I lie here staring at the floor drowning in my own blood. But I am unable to move, unable to make even that simple gesture. I should be in pain as I lie here, but I feel no pain. I feel nothing. Nothing but that blood-tear on my cheek, forcing me into the ground with the weight of all the sins in the world. Suddenly, I realize that it is because of this drop of bloody salty pain that I am unable to move. If I could just wipe it away, I would be able to move. If I could move, I could wipe it away.

Now there is something hovering above me, something huge and blurry. I wonder dimly if it is flying… how else could it be suspended in midair? I try in vain to make my eyes focus, but that stupid tear of blood is weighing them down too. Once the thing speaks, I know what it is. The leader of Schwarz… what was his name? Lobster… crawfish… Crawford! That was it… and his head was flying! How silly… I would have giggled, but that drop of blood-tear was still weighing me down.

That floating head spoke, but it seemed so far away. It was angry with me… it said I had been bad. I had taken something that belonged to it. I couldn't remember what that was exactly. It was so hard to think, that drop must be clouding my mind too. Then the head was joined by another fuzzy blur, and suddenly that drop was gone. But I still couldn't move. Why? The drop was gone…

In an instant of clarity, I realized that I must be dying. The fuzziness was spreading through my body, making it impossible to move, or think, or… I forgot what else. Funny, I always thought that death would be painful. It had always seemed like it when I saw the face of a target, or of a security guard who'd been unlucky enough to be in the way. I'd never known that they weren't in pain, just confused.

I supposed that I should be more stricken by the knowledge that I would die. But it seemed so far away, so distant. Dimly, I wondered about the old superstition that your life flashed by your eyes as you died. My life wouldn't be too interesting to watch… a lot of blood mostly. Mine, my teammates, our enemies, their victims… so much blood. I didn't need to see all the blood. Maybe instead of seeing my whole life, I would only see the part that caused my death. That would be shorter. God wouldn't have to take as much trouble for that, and I knew just where it would start…

It had all began, once upon a time, in a land far away from this one, on a bright summer's day…

I'd been humming happily, arranging a few freesias in a pot. It was a sunny afternoon in July, perfect in every way so far. It was a Sunday, and I was working the afternoon shift in the shop, so I'd been able to sleep in for once. We hadn't had missions for a few days, and I was relaxed, nothing on my mind but the flowers and the song I had stuck in my head. I was ready, therefore, to accept almost anything being a little out of the ordinary. In fact, if Nagi had come up to me then and began talking to me, I would probably have trusted him enough to start up a conversation.

Unfortunately, this was not what Nagi had in mind. He was in a more dramatic mood. The pot in my hands shattered, driving shards of ceramic into my skin as it burst into a thousand fragments. I yelped in surprise and shook my hands, trying futilely to shake off the red-hot needles of pain. When I looked up finally, I saw him leaning against the door of the shop, grinning slightly.

Frantically, I felt in all my apron pockets. No darts. There wasn't even a pair of scissors within arms length. I was alone, utterly defenseless, with a member of a rival assassin group about fifteen feet away. Suddenly, the day didn't seem quite so perfect.

Nagi was looking highly amused at the expression on my face. Maybe it was a little panicked, but in MY opinion, you couldn't really expect me to see the humor in the situation. Instead of immediately flinging me over the edge of a convenient cliff, he began to talk. I'd always loved being played with before I was murdered…

"God, you're paranoid. What makes you think I'm here to kill you? Perhaps I'm just purchasing some flowers. Even cold-blooded murderers need a little sunshine in their lives sometimes!"

I couldn't believe this. Was Nagi actually being… civil? Not to mention humorous… I decided to play along, in any case. After all, didn't exactly have anything to lose.

"Most innocent flower-buyers use the bell on the counter to get the worker's attention. See that? You push the button, and it makes a SOUND. Not only do you not waste energy, but sometimes the florists are actually healthy enough to make your arrangements once they notice you!"

He seemed a little startled by my cooperation. It seemed the Schwarz boy wasn't used to having his victims play with him. His face contorted briefly, then returned to its previously calm demeanor. He grinned.

"You do realize I can kill you right now?"

"Hai." I nodded. He seemed taken aback by my calmness.

"You don't fear death?"

Wordlessly, I shook my head. "It's not that…"

"No? Then why are you so calm?"

"You see, I'm calm because I'm not going to die. You're not going to kill me."

"You seem sure of yourself…"

"I am. If you were going to kill me you would have done so. Besides…" I shrugged. "You don't seem the type of person to show up at someone's door in broad daylight and suddenly decide to kill them. You want something else. I'm not sure what it is, but I know it's not death."

He smirked. "You're bluffing."

"Yes. I am."

Nagi blinked. And then… what did he do after that? I know he didn't kill me… I lived for a while, didn't I? Of course I did… I lived long enough to be dying now. But what did he say next? The clarity of the memory was slipping away, borne on white cloud-soft wings. The fuzziness was back… I was aware again of the blood seeping out of my body. It was odd to think that so much blood could flow from such a small hole…

Transfixed, I stared at the blood trickling still from my shoulder. I realized that I could see the gunshot wound, could see the place where the bullet had entered my body. I watched the blood leave. It didn't flow as smoothly as I had vaguely imagined it would, but trickled in spurts. Like my life had been… spurts of good and spurts of evil. My death passed in the same manner as my life.

It seemed as though I was enveloped in a blanket of warmth. Even the fuzzy feeling faded, until I felt nothing. I whispered softly, so softly that none could have heard me. Ai… shiteru… Nagi…

But suddenly the warmth was gone, and a sliver of ice touched my soul. Why did I love Nagi? It was his fault I was dead, his fault I lay here on this floor with my clothes soaked in blood. His fault…

No! It couldn't be true… my entire being rebelled against the thought. It was not true! Nagi could not have killed me. He loved me!

And yet… and yet. If I had never met Nagi, if we had never fallen in love, if we had never been caught, if I had never known him…

I fought madly against this idea. Madly, frantically, I struggled against it. It was Schwarz's fault!

But Nagi was Schwarz.

It couldn't be his fault. We were in love!

Or were we?

It seemed as though a feather brushed across my cheek. A soft caress, infinitely tender. Then I felt nothing at all. No, untrue. There was something…

I knew it was true. My lips twisted into a sardonic imitation of a smile. Omi Tsukiyono. Age 17. Killed by love.

How perfect. They could etch it on my gravestone. Why not? It would be poetic, something for lovers to ponder as they strolled in the shade of a maple tree planted in the cemetery. They could look at each other, and wonder how love could kill. They would gaze into each other's eyes, and think the foolish tenderness in their heart was true love. They would clasp hands, swinging their arms slightly, and wonder how love could ever kill. They would feel a warm affection spreading through them and they would mistake it for love, and so they would never understand how love could kill. They would never understand how you could love someone and hurt them, even hate them. They would kiss tenderly, and they would never understand the way love and hate seem the same. And they would be happy that way.

I smiled, and I did not fight anymore. He killed me. He loved me. Yes. He did.

Then, truly, there was nothing.

*********************************

And so the vision ended. A trickle of blood ran down Nagi's chin. Absentmindedly, he released his tongue from its captivity between his teeth and wiped the blood off his skin.

Schuldich grinned at him, waiting for a reaction.

"It was you. You put the thought in his mind."

The German didn't deny it. He chuckled and inclined his head toward Nagi, acquiescing.

"Well, yes. That's true. However… he did accept it, you know."

The young boy shook his head.

"No. You put the thought into his head. He was saying that he loved me before you interfered. Stop your fucking games. They don't work with me."

"Of course I nudged him in that direction. You think I'll deny that? But I can't put anything into his mind. You can't make something from nothing. I just gave him a suggestion. You saw him fight it. And you saw him lose. Or win. Whatever. Don't lie to yourself, boy. You killed him."

Nagi didn't respond. He stared at the comforter draped over his frail- seeming body, picking absently at a loose thread. He concentrated on the thread, absorbing his entire being into that one nervous gesture. He'd learned long ago that it was the only way to shut the telepath out. Sure enough, Schuldich shrugged and rose from the chair, moving with all the grace of steel covered in satin.

"But I suppose it doesn't matter if it was you. After all, your LOVER is dead…"

But Nagi did not hear him. He did not hear anything. He slept.

A/N Umm… yeah. Ack, this seemed decent while I was writing it, but when I reread it, I didn't like it as much… sorry about the long time between chapters, I was…. Actually, I have no excuse. I was lazy? But I think I have some ideas for the next chapters… I'll try to update over my spring break. Reviews please… it only takes a minute, and it makes me ridiculously happy… ^_^ Arigato to everyone who's reviewed so far! I love you all!

Koneko Bombay—don't worry, I'm insane too! I'll try to write the next one faster… tell my teachers not to give me any homework over vacation.

Madiha—wait till you see what the rest of Schwarz is like! *evil grin*

Karosai—I like bastardizing people too… definitely more entertaining!

Joy—See, I uploaded another chapter! Aren't you proud of me?? Well, I'm proud of myself. It took awhile, but it's pretty long. And… *evil grin* longer is always better!

Well, I'll stop my inane babbling and go do something… well, if not constructive, then at least DIFFERENT for awhile.