Rain and Music Boxes | Chapter 3
A Weiß Kreuz Fanfiction by Majokai Yukiko
Pairing: Crawford + Schuldich This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of Takehito Koyasu, Project Weiß and its associates.
A/N: This is sinful, writing so many chapters, updating a fic so fast that it's crazy. Blame it on the school closure, and Ice for forgetting to pass me the installation disc for FFVIII. I need to find something to do before I join Farferello in his cell.
--
Takatori Villa
Berlin, Germany 3 months later
Schuldich fidgeted in the couch uncomfortably, listening to the monotonous dial tone of the green receiver pressed to his ear. He was no lover of Alexander Bell and his little inventions, the German had to confess. But homesickness was eating at him and his telepathic powers were not strong enough to communicate with anyone across the planet.
"Nagi." Schuldich muttered to himself, irrationally hoping that the Japanese teen could hear him. "Pick up the phone."
Strange how that while he never really liked the boy a lot when he was in Japan, something in him told him that the only thing between insanity and him was Naoe Nagi.
"Hello?" A baritone answered the phone on the other side. Schuldich grinned. Perhaps, Nagi was not the only one holding that thread in his hands.
"Howdy Brad! Miss me?"
Over the telephone line, Schuldich thought he could hear the American groan. The German held his breath. Was it possible that he was not missed at all? Was it possible that Crawford had already sent a request up to the administrative to transfer Schuldich out of the team? Was it possible.
"It's Crawford for you, Schuldich, as it is for everyone else."
Schuldich swept his flame colored hair away from his face. Brad Crawford would always be Brad Crawford. You could not see him for a decade and he still would not have changed much.
"Fine, shan't argue with you on that, if you really want to be known after some primly supermodel with a mole on her face. For a moment, I thought you were too busy to talk to me."
"." There was a forced silence for a second, as if the American had something important to say but thought better against it. "What is your mission about, Schuldich?"
"Do you really want to know?" The German retorted, a slight hint of exasperation in his tone. He had known Brad Crawford for five years already; from the time when they man was his chaperon in Rosenkreuz, to now where they were working together in the same team called Schwarz. And from what he had gathered of his partner, he lusted for control. No, not lust, more like he could survive solely on control alone. Not knowing what Schuldich's mission was about must have put him on his edge for days.
Schuldich did not bother hiding his glee at that.
"Yes."
"If I don't tell you, what would you do to me?"
"Warn you. Schuldich, Takatori Hirofumi may not be shrewd like those you have dealt with when you lived on the streets, but he is not simpleton either."
Once the words were out of his mouth, Crawford regretted ever saying them. Schuldich tightened his grip on the green plastic; the phone receiver creaked ominously, as if it was about to break into pieces any moment.
It probably was.
He should know better, Schuldich scowled and slammed the phone back onto its handle. He should know about my past and its taboos. He should.
Just that he doesn't care.
*** Schwarz Apartment Tokyo, Japan
Crawford calmly replaced the phone; worry darkening his clean cut handsome looks as he thought about Schuldich's sudden outburst. He knew the other man would be angry with him for bringing up his past; Crawford had more than enough experience dealing with that. But he would usually wait for Crawford to finish what he had to say before flaring up at him.
"I'm worried, Schuldich." The American said, staring at the marked square on his tabletop calendar. Schuldich could not hear him from here, but he was still going to say it anyway.
"Hirofumi might not be as vicious as those rats you used to deal with, but the rich always has more idle time to drift into their private madness. Just be careful."
"Talking to yourself?" Nagi walked into the study and made his way to the shelves, where his laptop was placed. "They say that is the first sign of madness."
"Maybe I am on my way there," Crawford cast another look at the calendar and switched on his computer. Irritating as the redhead was, he was still a friend. Somebody he valued both as a teammate and a travel mate in this journey to hell and continued damnation.
He was going to apologize.
*** Takatori Villa Berlin, Germany
After a few hours, Schuldich was still staring at the much-abused telephone with fury in his eyes. He was losing his control on his emotions, he realized. It had never happened to him before. He had let the mental shields that drowned out the constant babbling of thoughts of those around him down before, not willingly of course. He had problems figuring out what his thoughts were and what the other ramblings were too. But emotions? Never. Like Crawford, he would have made a perfect poker player.
"Are you done with trying to crack the plastic of my phone?" Schuldich dragged himself off the overly soft cushions of the sofa and turned around, meeting the man behind him with an almost bored look on his face.
"No. I'm trying to give you an excuse to get a new phone."
Hirofumi rolled his eyes and looked as if he was about to faint. Taking in a deep breath, he shoved a piece of paper at the German and took a seat on the sofa beside the man. Schuldich raised an eyebrow and glanced at the message on the fax paper.
Amusing, he thought.
"Happy birthday, Mastermind. I bought something for you; get it from me when you come back. And.I realize that just now was my fault, and so I'm just going to mention this once. Don't expect me to repeat this again: I'm sorry. Signed, Crawford." The message read.
I never thought you'd remember, Brad.
Hirofumi clasped his hand firmly around Schuldich's wrist and pulled him down onto the couch gently.
"Why didn't you tell me it's your birthday today?" The Japanese man asked, encircling his arms around the thin waist.
Schuldich closed his eyes briefly, fighting down the nausea of having a man's arms around him. It was his job, he argued mentally. Have I not bear with it for so many years already?
There was a reason why he had not told Crawford the agenda of his mission. This was one part of his job that even his leader did not know about. When he was training in Rosenkreuz, his instructor had told him that one important part of being a telepath was seduction. He was blessed with physical features that both men and women would die for, but that was not enough. Telepathy, like all clairvoyance skills, were not as dependable as others thought they were. When all else fails, he had to make use of his other 'talents' to complete a mission, if he did not want to go crazy from overuse of his mental powers.
Every team in Estet had a telepath, and that telepath was always the house whore. Such was the price one had to pay for sanity and survival.
"I didn't think you'd care to know." He replied simply, willing his body to react to Hirofumi's clumsy administration. It would soon be over, he told himself. Once he had this naïve college graduate thinking the way Estet wanted him to, he could get the hell out of here and back to Japan.
Back to the sanctity of the Schwarz apartment where all these did not exist.
*** 4 years ago Rosenkreuz HQ Texas, USA
"Do you understand our reasons for doing this?" The man asked. The room was dark, endless darkness except for the bright white light of the table lamp. The young boy could feel his lower lip quivering in fear. What had he done to deserve this?
The man pushed a wooden box across the table to the boy. Smiling gently, he cupped his hands around the boy's smaller ones and stroked the thin fingers comfortingly.
"The music is innocent, Schuldich. But we are not. God had given you this special ability to listen to the hearts of others, but that is a heavy cross to bear."
"My name is not Schuldich." The young boy protested. Digging his mind for a name to call himself, he frowned. He could not remember any.
"Yes, it is. It is the name He had given all of us. Guilty, aren't we all? I'm sorry you have to do this, Schuldich. But it is the only way to complete the task God had given us without collapsing under that cross."
But why me? The young boy screamed mentally. It's not fair!
Resignedly, Schuldich lowered his head in the semblance of a nod.
"You can choose when to use which one of your skills unless special orders were given. But when the migraine gets too bad, you know what to do."
Another nod.
"You will be assigned a team after you completed your training. But your teammates cannot know about your backup.means of getting a job done."
"Why not? Aren't we supposed to trust one another?"
"Yes, but who will trust a whore? Nobody is going to care anymore, once you are damaged goods. Nobody but me. I'm your only friend. Understand?"
*** Present day 2 months after Schuldich's birthday Takatori Villa Berlin, Germany
One emerald eye peeked under the covers at the rising sun. A foreign hand was slung over his waist, somewhat possessively. Schuldich smirked and not so gently pushed said arm off him and crawled out of bed.
Nobody owns the Mastermind. He sneered.
Today would be the day he had his bags packed and moving. And Hirofumi would be returning to Japan with him to aid his father, Takatori Reiji, in his political pursuits. After months of soft persuasion through sexual means, Hirofumi was finally convinced that a better Japan would be created, if only his father could attain the power to.
He had no idea why Estet had specifically ordered for him not to brainwash the Japanese telepathically. It was probably because his mental control would fade in time and time was what the politician needed most to attain presidency. He had to truly convince the man, not create some mindless puppet out of him.
Schuldich picked up the clothes from the floor randomly, not caring whose clothes he would be walking out of the room in. It did not matter anyway, since he was about to take a nice long shower and return to Japan, conveniently pushing the memory of rubbery lips against his bare skin out of his mind.
There was no need to tell others about this. The German thought about how the Schwarz leader would be like a hellhound on his heels, demanding to know the details now that the mission was over. But Schuldich would not tell.
It would not make a difference if he did anyway. Who would care for damaged goods?
He cast one last look at the sleeping man, knowing that it would be the last time he would have to warm his bed. Chuckling to himself, Schuldich almost skipped out of the room. Yes, returning to Japan would be good for his mood. --
End of Chapter 3 Continue to Chapter 4
A Weiß Kreuz Fanfiction by Majokai Yukiko
Pairing: Crawford + Schuldich This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of Takehito Koyasu, Project Weiß and its associates.
A/N: This is sinful, writing so many chapters, updating a fic so fast that it's crazy. Blame it on the school closure, and Ice for forgetting to pass me the installation disc for FFVIII. I need to find something to do before I join Farferello in his cell.
--
Takatori Villa
Berlin, Germany 3 months later
Schuldich fidgeted in the couch uncomfortably, listening to the monotonous dial tone of the green receiver pressed to his ear. He was no lover of Alexander Bell and his little inventions, the German had to confess. But homesickness was eating at him and his telepathic powers were not strong enough to communicate with anyone across the planet.
"Nagi." Schuldich muttered to himself, irrationally hoping that the Japanese teen could hear him. "Pick up the phone."
Strange how that while he never really liked the boy a lot when he was in Japan, something in him told him that the only thing between insanity and him was Naoe Nagi.
"Hello?" A baritone answered the phone on the other side. Schuldich grinned. Perhaps, Nagi was not the only one holding that thread in his hands.
"Howdy Brad! Miss me?"
Over the telephone line, Schuldich thought he could hear the American groan. The German held his breath. Was it possible that he was not missed at all? Was it possible that Crawford had already sent a request up to the administrative to transfer Schuldich out of the team? Was it possible.
"It's Crawford for you, Schuldich, as it is for everyone else."
Schuldich swept his flame colored hair away from his face. Brad Crawford would always be Brad Crawford. You could not see him for a decade and he still would not have changed much.
"Fine, shan't argue with you on that, if you really want to be known after some primly supermodel with a mole on her face. For a moment, I thought you were too busy to talk to me."
"." There was a forced silence for a second, as if the American had something important to say but thought better against it. "What is your mission about, Schuldich?"
"Do you really want to know?" The German retorted, a slight hint of exasperation in his tone. He had known Brad Crawford for five years already; from the time when they man was his chaperon in Rosenkreuz, to now where they were working together in the same team called Schwarz. And from what he had gathered of his partner, he lusted for control. No, not lust, more like he could survive solely on control alone. Not knowing what Schuldich's mission was about must have put him on his edge for days.
Schuldich did not bother hiding his glee at that.
"Yes."
"If I don't tell you, what would you do to me?"
"Warn you. Schuldich, Takatori Hirofumi may not be shrewd like those you have dealt with when you lived on the streets, but he is not simpleton either."
Once the words were out of his mouth, Crawford regretted ever saying them. Schuldich tightened his grip on the green plastic; the phone receiver creaked ominously, as if it was about to break into pieces any moment.
It probably was.
He should know better, Schuldich scowled and slammed the phone back onto its handle. He should know about my past and its taboos. He should.
Just that he doesn't care.
*** Schwarz Apartment Tokyo, Japan
Crawford calmly replaced the phone; worry darkening his clean cut handsome looks as he thought about Schuldich's sudden outburst. He knew the other man would be angry with him for bringing up his past; Crawford had more than enough experience dealing with that. But he would usually wait for Crawford to finish what he had to say before flaring up at him.
"I'm worried, Schuldich." The American said, staring at the marked square on his tabletop calendar. Schuldich could not hear him from here, but he was still going to say it anyway.
"Hirofumi might not be as vicious as those rats you used to deal with, but the rich always has more idle time to drift into their private madness. Just be careful."
"Talking to yourself?" Nagi walked into the study and made his way to the shelves, where his laptop was placed. "They say that is the first sign of madness."
"Maybe I am on my way there," Crawford cast another look at the calendar and switched on his computer. Irritating as the redhead was, he was still a friend. Somebody he valued both as a teammate and a travel mate in this journey to hell and continued damnation.
He was going to apologize.
*** Takatori Villa Berlin, Germany
After a few hours, Schuldich was still staring at the much-abused telephone with fury in his eyes. He was losing his control on his emotions, he realized. It had never happened to him before. He had let the mental shields that drowned out the constant babbling of thoughts of those around him down before, not willingly of course. He had problems figuring out what his thoughts were and what the other ramblings were too. But emotions? Never. Like Crawford, he would have made a perfect poker player.
"Are you done with trying to crack the plastic of my phone?" Schuldich dragged himself off the overly soft cushions of the sofa and turned around, meeting the man behind him with an almost bored look on his face.
"No. I'm trying to give you an excuse to get a new phone."
Hirofumi rolled his eyes and looked as if he was about to faint. Taking in a deep breath, he shoved a piece of paper at the German and took a seat on the sofa beside the man. Schuldich raised an eyebrow and glanced at the message on the fax paper.
Amusing, he thought.
"Happy birthday, Mastermind. I bought something for you; get it from me when you come back. And.I realize that just now was my fault, and so I'm just going to mention this once. Don't expect me to repeat this again: I'm sorry. Signed, Crawford." The message read.
I never thought you'd remember, Brad.
Hirofumi clasped his hand firmly around Schuldich's wrist and pulled him down onto the couch gently.
"Why didn't you tell me it's your birthday today?" The Japanese man asked, encircling his arms around the thin waist.
Schuldich closed his eyes briefly, fighting down the nausea of having a man's arms around him. It was his job, he argued mentally. Have I not bear with it for so many years already?
There was a reason why he had not told Crawford the agenda of his mission. This was one part of his job that even his leader did not know about. When he was training in Rosenkreuz, his instructor had told him that one important part of being a telepath was seduction. He was blessed with physical features that both men and women would die for, but that was not enough. Telepathy, like all clairvoyance skills, were not as dependable as others thought they were. When all else fails, he had to make use of his other 'talents' to complete a mission, if he did not want to go crazy from overuse of his mental powers.
Every team in Estet had a telepath, and that telepath was always the house whore. Such was the price one had to pay for sanity and survival.
"I didn't think you'd care to know." He replied simply, willing his body to react to Hirofumi's clumsy administration. It would soon be over, he told himself. Once he had this naïve college graduate thinking the way Estet wanted him to, he could get the hell out of here and back to Japan.
Back to the sanctity of the Schwarz apartment where all these did not exist.
*** 4 years ago Rosenkreuz HQ Texas, USA
"Do you understand our reasons for doing this?" The man asked. The room was dark, endless darkness except for the bright white light of the table lamp. The young boy could feel his lower lip quivering in fear. What had he done to deserve this?
The man pushed a wooden box across the table to the boy. Smiling gently, he cupped his hands around the boy's smaller ones and stroked the thin fingers comfortingly.
"The music is innocent, Schuldich. But we are not. God had given you this special ability to listen to the hearts of others, but that is a heavy cross to bear."
"My name is not Schuldich." The young boy protested. Digging his mind for a name to call himself, he frowned. He could not remember any.
"Yes, it is. It is the name He had given all of us. Guilty, aren't we all? I'm sorry you have to do this, Schuldich. But it is the only way to complete the task God had given us without collapsing under that cross."
But why me? The young boy screamed mentally. It's not fair!
Resignedly, Schuldich lowered his head in the semblance of a nod.
"You can choose when to use which one of your skills unless special orders were given. But when the migraine gets too bad, you know what to do."
Another nod.
"You will be assigned a team after you completed your training. But your teammates cannot know about your backup.means of getting a job done."
"Why not? Aren't we supposed to trust one another?"
"Yes, but who will trust a whore? Nobody is going to care anymore, once you are damaged goods. Nobody but me. I'm your only friend. Understand?"
*** Present day 2 months after Schuldich's birthday Takatori Villa Berlin, Germany
One emerald eye peeked under the covers at the rising sun. A foreign hand was slung over his waist, somewhat possessively. Schuldich smirked and not so gently pushed said arm off him and crawled out of bed.
Nobody owns the Mastermind. He sneered.
Today would be the day he had his bags packed and moving. And Hirofumi would be returning to Japan with him to aid his father, Takatori Reiji, in his political pursuits. After months of soft persuasion through sexual means, Hirofumi was finally convinced that a better Japan would be created, if only his father could attain the power to.
He had no idea why Estet had specifically ordered for him not to brainwash the Japanese telepathically. It was probably because his mental control would fade in time and time was what the politician needed most to attain presidency. He had to truly convince the man, not create some mindless puppet out of him.
Schuldich picked up the clothes from the floor randomly, not caring whose clothes he would be walking out of the room in. It did not matter anyway, since he was about to take a nice long shower and return to Japan, conveniently pushing the memory of rubbery lips against his bare skin out of his mind.
There was no need to tell others about this. The German thought about how the Schwarz leader would be like a hellhound on his heels, demanding to know the details now that the mission was over. But Schuldich would not tell.
It would not make a difference if he did anyway. Who would care for damaged goods?
He cast one last look at the sleeping man, knowing that it would be the last time he would have to warm his bed. Chuckling to himself, Schuldich almost skipped out of the room. Yes, returning to Japan would be good for his mood. --
End of Chapter 3 Continue to Chapter 4