If I get any lines wrong I'm sorry, please don't nit-pick, you all know the ones I mean *^_~* I've taken massive liberties and made a hell of a lot of stuff up - but it's A FIC! If you complain, I'll set Mecha-Roshi on you.

(But don't worry, you'll be OK 'cos he's SO SMALL.)

Disclaimer: The world may break and carpets may be crimson red, but Weiss will never be mine. ESSCGATFOD is half mine, but that's a few millennia away from publication, so it doesn't really have any relevance here.

Origins

By Felflowne "Oh my God I'm at Uni" aka Espion

Act One

'Hey kid, your dad said he wouldn't pay…you weren't worth it.'

The man's face twisted into a grin at the young boy's frightened expression.

'Th-That's not true!'

'Hey, whatever, just telling it like it is.'

The boy screamed, hugging his arms to his body.

It couldn't be true, it couldn't! His father wouldn't leave him here… He was supposed to love and take care of his children. They were lying, they had to be lying!

Tears ran freely down his already damp cheeks, only causing his abductors to laugh all the harder.

Help me…Father, I'm scared Father…They'll… They'll kill me if you don't come!

But his father didn't appear.

'C'mon, he's no use to us anymore, and I don't make idle threats.' The men advanced.

The boy was too terrified even to scream. His breath stuck in his throat and his heart pounded. He couldn't get away. He closed his eyes, too exhausted with fear and misery to keep them open any longer.

'What the-!'

He opened his eyes sharply. The lights had gone out. He felt someone grab his arm, and tried to pull away, but they were too strong. He whimpered in terror, then felt his bonds slip loose.

Lost in confusion, the boy felt the person take his hand and pull him towards the door.

Father…?

No, it wasn't his father. This man, because it was a man, was slimmer, although he did look a little bit similar to his father…

Then they were outside. The boy gasped as cold air scraped his lungs, and had to stop, his breath rasping loudly. The man slid his arms around him and began to run with him.

This man wasn't his father, he was a stranger. When then, did he feel so familiar? He felt sleepy. The man slowed to a walk, then carefully passed the boy to someone else before climbing into the car.

The boy was already asleep, worn out by fear and the running. Shuichi reached out and the other man handed the boy back to him. He ran his hand gently over the sleeping child's slightly matted blonde hair, noting with a frown a small cut on his cheek.

'What're you gonna do, Shuichi?'

Behind them, almost masked by the sound of the car's engine, came the noise of the warehouse exploding.

Shuichi ignored it.

'I can't keep him,' he said finally, 'but I'll make sure he's taken care of.'

'I can't believe Reiji. That was inhuman.'

Shuichi didn't reply, merely kept stroking the boy's head soothingly.

His companion looked at him sympathetically.

'Did you hear about what Bagheera suggested?'

'Yes, I did.'

'What d'you think?'

'I think it would make me feel like a monster, sentencing the child to that kind of life.'

'Nevertheless. Bagheera's orders come from on high. You know that.'

The hand that was attempting to tease the knots out of the boy's hair stopped moving.

'Orders?'

'Yes.'

Shuichi looked down at the child snuggled against him. His mouth tightened into a thin line. Then he reached down and slipped his arms around the boy's slumbering form, pulling him up and hugging him.

'I'm sorry, son, there is no way on Earth you deserve this,' he whispered into the boy's ear. He stirred a little, then nodded off immediately.

His companion looked tactfully out of the car window, away from the little family. Then his gaze was drawn back. Shuichi spoke.

'Very well,' he said.

**

Seagulls wheeled across the sky, tiny black silhouettes against the sunset. There was no one else on the coastal path at all, even though it wasn't late.

The sky was tinged vibrant yellow and red. It was beautiful, but Omi didn't care, his mind was on other things. A recent mission stuck in his mind.

What a stupid thing to think, they all stick in my mind… I can never forget a single one…

But this one, the most recent. Weiss had been called in to rid Tokyo of some child abductors. They'd been too late to save the first lot of children, who'd been found dead and mutilated. Only one boy had escaped that, only to be kidnapped again.

In the end, they'd done it. Omi had fired the final shot that ended the mission. Shota was safe and with his family again.

'I just want him to put it behind him… To be a normal little boy again…'

The words of Shota's mother came back to him. She said that in the short space of time Shota had been at home between escaping and being abducted again.

'Put it all behind me…'

Omi sighed. This was useless. His mind was an impenetrable fortress. No matter how hard he tried, he could only coax out a few vague images. A tall man, holding his hand. Three men, advancing on him.

'What a screw-up I am,' Omi thought, 'how did I get into this mess?'

Sighing, he pushed away from the railing. He'd spoken to Manx in the lull during the last mission. One thing he did know for sure was that it hadn't been his father who'd rescued him that night. It had been Persia, but why?

Manx was not forthcoming with answers, even when, to his infinite shame, he'd broken down in front of her. She wasn't cold, she'd stroked his head gently as he sat crouched on the pavement, his whole being gripped with a grief he had no name for.

He began to walk towards home.

'It's home to me because I was a foundling,' he thought, 'I'm Weiss through and through, more than any of the others. I was brought up by Kritiker, after my father left me for dead…'

He walked on, letting out a small sigh. It wasn't all bad, he reasoned. He'd had some good times at the Koneko, with his teammates. One thing they never ever did, however, was talk about how they'd ended up there. For his part, Omi guessed that Aya had some deep-seated reason. It burned through in his gaze whenever he looked at you. Ken or Yohji though… No, Omi didn't have a clue. And they, in their turn, knew nothing about him.

He wondered how they'd react to knowing he'd been instructed in basic marksmanship and combat since he was nine years old.

Did he regret it? Well, to be frank, no. He despised killing, that was true, but the people Weiss were sent to remove were people who'd done awful, terrible things…

'So we do terrible things to them… eye for an eye…' Omi muttered to himself. He rounded a corner and the Koneko came into view.

'No…I don't regret my start in life… I was lucky to have a life at all… I could've died that night, but Persia saved me…but why?'

Why had Persia rescued him? Maybe Persia had been in Weiss then. He'd thought about that before. He cast his mind back to his early years at Kritiker for a brief moment.

**

'Omi-kun! How're you doing?' Omi looked up. He only knew this man as Persia, but he liked him a lot.

'Fine thank you, Persia-san,' he replied, smiling at the man. He blinked as a sad expression crossed the man's face.

'How are you getting on with your classes?'

'Everyone's so nice to me,' Omi said, another smile lighting up his face, 'they tell me I'm very good.'

'That's great.'

'Err…Persia, is it true that when I grow up, I'll have to kill bad people?'

Shuichi looked at the boy levelly.

'Don't you want to?'

'I thought killing was bad. Those men were going to kill me, and you stopped them.'

Shuichi looked hard at the boy.

'There is a big difference between killing a defenceless child and killing a man who has committed foul crimes.'

'But what if he was really sorry and promised not to do it again?'

'Omi,' Persia knelt down beside him, 'Kritiker spends a lot of time investigating these people. We don't send you out on a whim.'

Omi bowed. It was very cute.

'I understand,' he said, 'and yes, I want to help. In any way I can.'

'That's good, never lose sight of what you want,' Persia said, straightening. He began to walk away.

'Hey, Persia-san!' He turned. Omi shrugged his shoulders and the hidden blades in his jacket sleeves dropped into his hands. He held them up.

'I'm not so defenceless now,' he said.

Persia stared.

Omi laughed a little.

'I've been practising. Last time I tried that they got stuck in my T-shirt and I had to hold real still while some people cut my T-shirt off. Otherwise, they said, I'd've got skewered.'

Persia blinked.

'And you kept practising, after that?'

'Well, sure, otherwise I wouldn't've got any better!'

Omi smiled again. Persia stepped back to him and laid one hand on his head.

'Good work, Omi,' he said fondly.

**

Omi kept walking. Yes, Persia had always been nice to him. He'd almost thought of him as the father he'd never had, one that cared about him.

He put his hand on the door of the shop. The shutters were down. He must've been out later than he thought.

Hmm… How was he going to get in? He knocked tentatively, although he knew that everyone was probably downstairs.

'I can see this becoming a highly embarrassing mountaineering exercise,' he thought, looking up at his window above the shop.

Just as he thought this, a voice came from within.

'Omi, is that you?'

'Yeah,' he called back.

'Just a sec,' the voice replied, 'Aya wouldn't let me leave the shutters up. I told him you weren't back, but he said I'd have to sit and wait for you…there you go…'

The heavy metal shutters began to rise. Omi didn't wait for them to open all the way, but ducked under.

'Thanks,' he said, turning. Ken was now turning the handle the other way to bring the shutters back down again.

He glanced around and saw a reading book lying on the table, next to a mug.

'Did you really wait here for me?' He asked. Ken scratched his head in an embarrassed kind of way.

'Well, yeah, I didn't want you to be stuck out there.'

'Oh I'd've got in,' Omi said, but catching sight of Ken's face, added hurriedly, 'but thank you very much, Ken-kun!'

'Don't worry 'bout it,' Ken said, collecting his things from the table. Omi watched him walk towards the back of the shop.

'I guess… If thing's had been different… I wouldn't have met Aya, Yohji or Ken. They're my family now.'

Ken turned and grinned.

'C'mon, we've all been waiting for you to get back so we can eat.'

'You didn't have to wait,' Omi said quietly, but Ken just laughed.

'Of course we did. Dinner's not complete without all four of us. P.S. Could you walk a little quicker? I'm starving.'

Omi smiled at him.

'Yeah, I'm coming,' he said, and followed his friend into the kitchen.

**

'Omi, you're kind of quiet, is there something wrong?'

Omi looked up at Aya, who had spoken.

'No, I'm all right, thanks Aya-kun,' he said, looking back at his food.

Aya dropped it, and Omi was grateful. He poked his chopsticks idly into his bowl. It was good. Aya had cooked tonight, he could tell. Yohji's cooking was downright awful, and although Ken's tasted all right, he'd never got the hang of presentation.

He finished it and thanked Aya, then got up.

'I have homework,' he explained,' thanks for waiting for me guys.'

Ken didn't look up and Yohji wasn't finished eating, but Aya nodded, and Omi got up and left the room.

He began to climb the stairs to his room.

He knew he was the kid here. Would it always be like that? He didn't mind, it was kind of nice to be fussed over. Even Aya fussed over him, in a way. Yohji always kept an eye open for him whenever he was around. Ken was different 'though. Omi guessed that it was down to the slight difference in their ages. Ken didn't fuss over him like a child, he looked out for him like an older brother.

Like before, when he'd stayed up in the shop alone for what must have been going on for an hour, just so he'd be there to let him in. He smiled. Yeah, Ken was the closest thing he'd ever had to a big brother.

He let another private smile pass over his face as he walked into his room.

**

'So OK, we're taking the kid in, but we can't call him Mamoru Takatori, now can we?'

'Of course not, it'll need to be changed, and soon, before he starts asking.'

'You reckon he'll forget his own name?'

'No, but he won't remember it being changed in later life if we do it now.'

'Yeah, we'd better do it quick then.'

'You go find Shuichi, then.'

'What, why?'

The second man rolled his eyes.

'Because it's his kid, dumbass, don't you think he'd like a say?'

'Oh yeah, right.'

The first man scurried off.

**

Shuichi hadn't moved from where he'd sat down as soon as he'd got inside. The child was on his lap, as he had been in the car. He'd been sat here like this for nearly half an hour now.

He ran his hand absent-mindedly over the young boy's delicate features.

So much like his mother…

Yes, it hurt. It hurt knowing that this was probably the last time he'd ever get to hold his son like this. It hurt knowing that although he'd see him often, the boy could never, ever know who his father was.

He would, Shuichi knew, have vague recollections of his brother, the man who'd occupied his place as the boy's father for the first few years of his life.

Why hadn't he paid the ransom? Had he known? He couldn't have known, could he? And even if he had, what reason was that to put the boy in danger? It was, after all, not his fault. His hold tightened slightly.

Reiji…

Reiji was his enemy. Reiji was the enemy of Kritiker. But he'd never seen it to be within Reiji's capacity to send a helpless child to his death. He'd underestimated him.

Footsteps shook him out of his thoughts. He looked up.

'Shuichi, you've got to come right away.'

He got up slowly and began to follow the man, his son still asleep in his arms.

**

'So, what d'you reckon?'

Shuichi looked around the room.

'You're leaving it to me?' he asked.

Bagheera nodded. The rest of the men present looked at each other.

Shuichi looked at the slumbering child and said quietly, 'Omi.'

'Omi?' Bagheera enquired. Shuichi nodded.

'It's the name that Kikuno…that she would have wanted…'

There was a tactful silence.

'Very well,' said Bagheera finally, 'Omi it is, Omi Tsukiyono, any complaints?'

There were none. The committee left one by one. Bagheera walked over to Shuichi and laid a hand on his arm.

'I'm sorry, Shuichi, it's rough.'

'Life's rough,' Shuichi replied.

'The word from the top floor is that you're getting promoted.'

'What to?' Shuichi asked, but he already knew the answer.

'Persia,' Bagheera said, 'they want you in charge of the Weiss.'

'There's no Weiss right now.'

'We're working on it,' Bagheera said, 'we have one.'

'I see.'

Shuichi looked at the child. He would grow up to be a murderer.

Bagheera turned to leave, but before the door was shut, a voice called back, 'and get some rest, you look beat.'

'I will, thanks Bagheera.'

He heard the woman sigh as she pulled the door to.

'Good luck Persia,' she muttered, 'you're going to need it.'

In Shuichi's arms the boy finally stirred. He blinked a few times at the man who was holding him. His face screwed up in sleepy confusion.

'Daddy?'

'No,' said Shuichi, and felt the word rip at his heart, 'my name is Persia.'

**

Omi spread his schoolwork over his desk. He knew, and had always known, that Omi Tsukiyono wasn't his real name. It was a name Kritiker had given to him. He remembered the confusion that had struck him when everyone had started calling him Omi. It'd been odd. He hadn't really minded, 'though, and had adapted quickly, but had wondered why they'd changed it. They were grown-ups, they knew best - that was how he'd explained it back then.

'Adults don't always know best…' he thought, looking idly at the work in front of him. Was he grown up yet? He knew he was 17 years old, not technically an adult. He thought about how he'd changed from the little boy who'd run happily up and down the corridors at Kritiker, looking for Persia or Bagheera-san.

'That boy's hands weren't stained with the blood of other human beings, like mine are.'

Yes, that boy had been an innocent, trained by Kritiker to be a ruthless killer, the killer that was thinking these thoughts now.

He sighed. Why was he so thoughtful all of a sudden? Sure, he'd had a screwed up past, but it had been a happy one for most of his early years. He'd enjoyed living inside Kritiker. Everyone had looked out for him there…

'Just like Ken, Yohji and Aya do here…'

He was a happy person. It was a trait of his personality, which, to anyone who knew about his past, seemed completely illogical. He was kind and easy to embarrass - Yohji had found this out quite early - but when it came to evil, he was utterly ruthless, and never forgave.

He sighed and stretched, noticing how long his shadow was on the wall. He was growing faster than he thought. He knew he wasn't done growing yet, but it always seemed to surprise him, because, in his mind, he'd already been an adult for several years. He let his arms fall by his sides.

No, it was no good, this work wasn't getting done tonight. He felt dull and depressed. Who was his father? Why hadn't he paid his ransom? If it was because he didn't love him, then why not? Weren't fathers supposed to love their children…?

The thought seemed to ring a bell in some distant corner of his memory. He stared at his hands in his lap.

'Omi?'

Omi jumped so far he nearly fell off his chair.

'Geez! Sorry!' Ken pulled him back so he was fully on his chair.

Omi blinked at his teammate. Why was he here?

'Sorry, are you working?' Ken asked, motioning towards the paper on Omi's desk. Omi shook his head.

'Can't concentrate.' Ken nodded.

'Well, uh, the reason I came to see you is that there's that Austin Powers movie on, I wondered if you wanted to watch it with me. It's on the TV, I mean.'

Omi looked at him, then at the paper on his desk.

'Didn't Aya or Yohji want to watch it?' He asked, expecting to hear that Aya had no time for a comedy film and that Yohji was out.

'I didn't ask them,' Ken said.

'You didn't?'

'No, I wanted to watch it with you. Are you coming?'

A pleasant feeling seemed to blot out the dull mood he'd previously been in. Omi stood up.

'Sure!'

**

'Omi?'

The boy looked up, and then smiled slightly.

'Hello Bagheera-san.'

'Hello.'

She leant against the doorframe of his room.

'They working you hard?' she asked, gesturing to the books on his table.

Omi smiled.

'Not really, it's not difficult.'

Bagheera picked up one of his textbooks and began to leaf through it, then she said, 'is the room OK?'

'Yeah, it's great,' Omi said enthusiastically, but then he pretended to look pained, 'but a little too close to school for me.'

Bagheera laughed a little. Omi was being tutored in one of the rooms down the corridor.

'No excuse for being late, you mean?' she said lightly, handing the sixteen-year-old his book back.

Omi smiled at her. She knew he'd never once been late.

Bagheera turned to leave, then added, almost as an afterthought, 'Omi, come and see me after school finishes tomorrow, OK? I'll be in my office.'

'OK Bagheera-san,' the teenager replied.

**

Omi laughed, and Ken looked at him.

'What is it?'

'I was just thinking. 'Shagedelic' is a really strange word.'

'I think that's the point.' Ken laughed. He handed Omi the bowl of popcorn and Omi took a handful, thanking him.

They settled back down again.

'This is so nice,' Omi thought, 'it's like were normal. Two normal friends watching a movie…'

He chewed his popcorn absently. The film was funny, and it was possibly the silliest thing he'd ever seen. He laughed at it, and saw Ken turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face him.

'What?'

'Oh…nothing really,' Ken said lightly, 'I was just thinking how it's great to hear you laugh again. You've been kinda down lately.'

'I have?' Omi didn't think anyone would have noticed.

'Well, I thought you weren't quite yourself…all quiet and stuff…' Ken wasn't good at this kind of conversation.

'Say Omi,' he said quietly, his attention no longer on the film, 'how'd you ever get caught up in all this?'

Omi froze mid-thought. Ken had just broken their most important implicit rule.

He looked at him, but Ken had looked away again.

'It just doesn't seem to add up…' he said quietly.

'Oh well,' said Omi, 'you don't know anything.'

Privately he was thinking the same thing Ken had just said, only about him. Why was he here? He was very sociable and friendly, and he loved kids. How on Earth had he ended up here?

Ken sighed. He could tell that Omi was not going to talk to him.

'No, I guess I don't,' he said.

Omi looked at Ken for a while. He really didn't understand the way he felt when he was around. He'd suddenly get this crazy urge to tell him everything, but it would be gone a second later. What would Ken think of him?

'Ken, I'm here because my father didn't love me and left me for dead, and Kritiker raised me as a killer.'

He didn't want to burden anyone with that, he decided. It wasn't because he didn't like or trust Ken, because he did, totally… He just didn't want to bring him down with his sob story. His past was his past, and it was just that, the past. It had no relevance to the present. No one needed to know. Yes, that made sense.

But, he countered, would it help him to tell someone about it? It was bothering him, after all.

No, he fired back, that was selfish. He made his decision.

'Ken-kun, I'll admit… I've been thinking about…y'know… my childhood …recently.'

'No specifics… You can do it.'

Ken looked at him.

'Really? Is it bothering you?'

Omi thought. Was it? No, not as such. It was other thoughts, in addition to that. He had a father somewhere who cared nothing for him, even to the point of abandoning him to be killed. That was the main thing. And he couldn't help wondering…

'I just… can't help wondering what would've happened if things had been different.'

'Mmm?'

'Well, y'know…If I'd been born elsewhere…If someone else…'

He stopped abruptly. 'No specifics!'

'Well…I dunno about that, Omi,' Ken said slowly, 'but I guess that would mean we would've never met.'

'I guess,' Omi said quietly.

Neither said anything for a while. The film was ignored.

'I can't even begin to guess what you went through, Omi,' Ken said gently, 'but isn't it worth something, because we're a team - You, Aya, Yohji and me?'

'Yes,' Omi decided. He looked over to where the other assassin was sitting, looking quite subdued, an unusual look for him. He moved over to him and hugged him.

'Hey!' Ken retorted, but laid an arm over Omi's back as the smaller boy nestled close to him.

'I'm glad I know you,' Omi said, very quietly, 'I guess it was worth it.'

Ken didn't know how to answer that. He hugged his friend tighter.

'One day…' Omi said, '…I'll tell you everything. I promise.'

'Omi, you don't have to…'

But he was silenced by Omi placing a hand gently over his mouth and looking up at him.

'No Ken, that's a promise.'

'O-OK… Then I promise I'll tell you about me someday as well.'

'Only if you want to,' was his reply.

Omi felt calm and peaceful. Here, he felt safe. It didn't matter anymore that his family hadn't wanted him. It didn't matter that every few weeks, he was sent out to kill people by shooting them between the eyes. All that seemed very far away.

He found his thoughts drifting back to a topic he'd been thinking about earlier. In his mind he was an adult, but physically, he was still growing. This could mean that his thoughts were sometimes very confused.

Like right now. He looked up at the older boy he was lying against, and his face suddenly seemed to warm up. He looked away again. What was he thinking?

'Omi?' He had to look up again. Ken was looking at him quizzically.

'Uh?'

'Are you comfy there?'

'Uh…yeah, actually,' Omi said, his face heating up again, and for a moment he found his gaze locked with his friend's. Ken expression was confused, but soft.

Then everything went crazy.

Omi's eyes widened as Ken leant towards him and kissed him gently. Then he let his eyes fall shut.

'Oh my God…'

Omi's brain simply shut down. No thoughts could enter his head. The only thing he could concentrate on was how good this felt. He began to respond shyly, wrapping his arms tighter around the other boy. This must have encouraged Ken, because Omi was shocked slightly to find himself being laid backwards.

He didn't have any time to think, however, because Ken's lips were on his again, harder this time. Omi whimpered in pleasure.

'Oh God…yes…yes…'

He almost cried out when Ken began to kiss his neck, and began squirming around. He'd never felt like this before, never!

Then, suddenly Ken pulled back.

'Oh my God, Omi, I'm so, so sorry! Shit!'

Then it hit Omi with a crash as well. Oh no! What had they done?!

He sat up slowly, his lips buzzing slightly. He put his face in his hands.

'It wasn't just you,' he said numbly, 'it was my fault too…'

'I'm sorry, I really am. Shit, Omi, I dunno what I was thinking!'

'You weren't thinking,' Omi said dully, 'I know I wasn't.'

Ken nodded miserably.

'Look,' Omi said, 'let's just forget about it.'

Ken looked at him incredulously. 'You what!? You think I can forget that?'

'Why not? I can,' Omi said, and Ken looked away and wouldn't meet his gaze.

It was all right. Ken didn't know that he was lying through his teeth. He wouldn't be able to forget either. His heart was still beating overtime. In those few seconds, he'd been in heaven. He'd been safe, protected and loved. And he was telling Ken to forget. This was Bombay speaking to Ken now, and sometimes Omi really hated the bastard.

**

He knocked on the door.

'Come in, Omi,' came Bagheera's voice. He opened the door. Bagheera was sat at her desk. On the other side of the desk sat a man on a chair. He had bandages around both his hands, and one around his head. Trying not to stare, Omi sat in the other chair. Bagheera looked up at him.

'Good day at school?' she asked. He nodded, aware that the man was looking at him curiously.

'Let me introduce you,' Bagheera said, business-like. 'Omi, this is Ken Hidaka. Ken, Omi Tsukiyono.'

The man nodded at him, and Omi tried to smile, but this strange man had unsettled him.

'You two are going to be working together,' Bagheera continued. Omi looked at her suddenly, and she caught his eye, and nodded.

'Yes, it's started now.' Omi looked down. It had started? He'd tried to push the thought of this day out of his mind. He'd never thought it would actually come. He glanced at the man, Hidaka. His eyes looked dead and cold. Omi shuddered slightly. He was scared of this guy - how could he ever work with him?

'Well, now I've introduced you two, I'll leave the rest to you, Omi. Could you show Ken where he'll be staying? He has the key.'

Omi nodded obediently. Bagheera looked at him politely.

'Oh!' he cried, jumping to his feet. She meant now. 'Yes, Bagheera-san.' He bowed briefly, then looked towards the strange man, who had stood up as well, rather stiffly.

'Um…d'you wanna follow me?' he asked the man tentatively. He nodded and began to walk after Omi as Omi made for the door.

'See you later,' Bagheera said.

Out in the corridor, Omi turned towards his new co-worker.

'Uhh…does your key have a number on it or something?'

The man paused, then pulled it out of his pocket. He glanced at it.

'It says 475,' he said, and to Omi's surprise his voice wasn't rough or harsh, like he'd expected, but actually quite pleasant…and…if he wasn't mistaken, this guy wasn't that much older than he was.

He began to walk. The man's room was quite near to his. They walked in silence. Omi was curious as to why he was hurt, and why he was here, but bit his tongue. Something told him that those kinds of questions would be the very worst kinds to ask.

As they rounded a corner, Omi spotted Persia walking towards them.

'Hello, Persia-san,' he called out. The man turned and smiled. He always did when he saw Omi.

'Hello, Omi, who's this?'

'I'm Ken Hidaka,' the man said quietly, and Persia nodded.

'Good to make your acquaintance, Ken. My name's Persia, although Omi may have given that away. I'm your co-ordinator.'

Omi blinked. He hadn't known that. Ken just nodded.

'Won't be long now, my friends,' Persia said, beginning to walk away.

**

Omi sat in his room, his head in his hands. It was over. The main mission, the one that had ended Weiss, was over. Reiji Takatori was dead. Aya had killed him himself.

Aya…

Omi's heart clenched painfully, remembering the look of hatred Aya had shot him that night he'd gone up to his room to ask him about the Takatoris.

Oh yes, he'd found out a lot about himself in the last few months. He'd discovered that not only were his family alive and well, they were also the people Weiss and Kritiker were hell-bent on bringing down - The Takatori family.

And Persia! He'd been Reiji Takatori's brother! That hadn't gone down well with Aya, although, Omi suspected, his better side had won through in the end. Now, Persia was dead. He may have been his uncle, but to Omi, it felt like losing his father. He'd lost his father in two senses.

And this was it. This was his pinnacle of existence. His entire life so far had carried him to this moment. He'd lost everyone. Kritiker had been devastated.

But no… he hadn't lost everyone, right…? He still had… no. He didn't have anyone. The other members of Weiss were away and finally doing what they'd always wanted to do, or so he assumed. They were free. At the end, because this was the end, it had to be, they were free of Weiss. Killing Takatori had set them free.

It had trapped him.

He would go to school, forget killing, be unable to do anything about the evil he would always be able to spot in the world. He would be helpless.

He had nothing he wanted to do, nowhere to go. The others had had lives before Weiss, but not him. His life had been Kritiker and Weiss. He had no solid memories of another life before that.

He looked around his room. He hadn't seen this room in nearly two years. It was his room back at Kritiker. The building was empty and dark. The electricity supply had been cut off. The building was condemned.

Omi was in despair. He couldn't see any way out of the pain that would now plague him for every day of his life. Nothing could help him now. He reached inside his coat and withdrew a single dart, turning it over in his hands.

'Well…world, thanks. It's been shit. I won't miss you.'

He turned the dart around so the point was facing him and lifted it up.

Then the door opened.

'I thought you'd be here. Room 470, right?'

*****

*crackles fingers* Yawn…ooh what to do now? Obviously I'll write the second part. Hmm…This idea came to me when I was half-asleep don't'cha know? I knew it would be a lot of work but I think it's worth it. They need to bring out an Episode Zero of Weiss! Vague hints will not suffice!

*bows*