Rain And Music Boxes | Prologue
A Weiß Kreuz Fanfiction by Majokai Yukiko
This is an amateur attempt and does not intend to infringe the rights of Takehito Koyasu, Project Weiß and their associates.
Pairing: Crawford + Schuldich
A/N: I'm looking for someone. If you are him, you will know when you read this fic. Please, whether you exist or not, just come and look for me.
It was raining again today. As far he was concerned, nothing good can ever happen on rainy days. That was his personal opinion.
It was just water falling from the clouds, wasn't it? But still, Schuldich hated the rain. For some strange unknown mandate of fate, rainy days were just omens telling him that he was going to be the gods' target for practical jokes again.
He looked quietly around his room. It was in the middle of the night. A quick glance at his clock confirmed that it was two past twelve midnight. Not a particularly early hour, but definitely not one when Schuldich had to be put into bed. He outgrew that long ago.
His nights were never silent before he joined Estet. Dreams and nightmares of varying content invaded his thoughts over and over again. It was interesting, certainly, to enjoy a free movie marathon each night. But unfortunately, he would have given anything then to exchange for silence.
His room practically shouted out his existence in everywhere. Unused condoms sat passively on his bedside table; his clothes thrown on the floor thoughtlessly, waiting for Nagi to pick them up and put them into the laundry when he sees the need to; a high powered Hi-Fi set stood proudly on the shelves, with a messy stack of rock CDs next to it, a layer of dust collecting on it not from the lack of usage, but from the lack of care.
In conclusion, his room was permanently in a terrible mess.
But that was just he, wasn't it? That was how he was meant to behave. Mastermind of Schwarz was meant to be a free spirit unrestrained regardless of Estet's relentless efforts to change that fact. If it was a 'meant to be', then he could not be bothered to change that.
There was one thing in that room of his that stood out from the rest like a sore thumb.
The intricate design on that cursed musical box reflected the moonlight off its glossy irregular surface. It was just a normal musical box, not anything special. Store-bought, easily gotten off the shelves of any gift shop in town. But surprisingly, it was the thing that Mastermind bought with his first paycheck from Estet.
It was a reminder, something to remind the telepath of where he came from, what he had been through, how much blood he had spilled to crawl up to his current position, drenched in his sins, but still as beautiful as ever.
Beautiful? He had no idea. But at least, that was what they all say about him.
With his current place in Estet, he could have gotten anything he wanted. So long if he asked nicely enough. The rain should no longer bother him. Fate should have already lost its hold on him.
But that man had to enter his life just like that. Stroll into it as if it was his birthright, as if it was nothing to be questioned about. That man had to appear like a forgotten nightmare and haunt him. Like that musical box and yet so unlike it at the same time, he was there to remind Schuldich that he was no more than the scum he was born to be.
Nothing changed. Only that this time, this scum was better clothed, better fed. But still…just a scum, nothing more, nothing less.
***
The light of the corridor outside came alive with a soft 'click' of the switch. Crawford was awake again. Insomnia? When had he even care in the first place?
A shadow fell over his door; the light outside his room was momentarily blocked. Schuldich watched in fascination and irritation as the knob on his room door turned.
Crawford had definitely picked the wrong night to talk to him about anything.
Schuldich grabbed a pair of cotton pants off the floor and pulled in on, saving himself some dignity as the infallible leader of Schwarz walked into his room without a word. Like he had always done. Walked into his life, and turned in upside down, inside out.
Like he always believed, nothing good ever comes out of a rainy night. Rain makes him think too much, and Schuldich for one, hates thinking. And that was what Crawford was all about.
Thinking.
The German looked up. The irritating stick-in-the-ass was holding a manila envelope in his hands. Great, simply great. Not another mission in the middle of the night. Schuldich groaned mentally.
***
I only wanted a music box, the young boy argued mentally, pressing his face against the cold glass of the shop window as his fingers traced out the beautiful engraving on the smooth well lacquered surface. .
He only wanted a music box. But he had paid for it with his soul.
End of Prologue.