This is a loooooong author's note, just so you know! ~_^ I had to thank
everyone and address Fahm's questions.
Misura: Thank you so much for your kind words! I don't know why, but in my head, Schu will always have eyes of jade... lol I'm glad to see I'm not alone though! I would also like to thank you for reviewing each chapter separately - that's really nice.
Heaven Star: Hehe...I like to think Schu has a thoughtful side. Anime is infamous for taking a bad guy and making you love him - sometimes this is merely because they are gorgeous and irresistible, and other times it is because you feel sorry for them. Then, there is that not so rare occasion where they take the bad guy and give you a look at his kinder, more thoughtful side. Weiss Kruez never did that for Schuldig, so I just decided to. I know some people don't like that, but on the plus side, some people do ^_^
Schwarz_Ryu: Wait no longer! I have updated!
Any: I can't help it if I like reviews! *pouts* Actually, I'm just trying to break my own personal record and maybe, just MAYBE get a 100 reviews... I sort of doubt that will happen with this story though - I have a better chance with Death Song. That one has 80 reviews to date! Yay!
Kamazova: Thanks for your review! All because of you, Farfarello will SOMEHOW live... Oh, and I am getting this inkling you don't like my Death Song fic as much...lol Well, I would address some of your questions and comments on that story, but that'd just be out of place here...
Fahm: Ahh...your review was quite interesting. Now, I dissected it and carefully thought up answers to all your complaints. Here ya' go.
BONNIE:
First, let's address how much you hate Bonnie.
"I don't like Bonnie. She can draw, she can sing, everyone loves her, and she can manage to 'cure' Farf with just a few lines like 'I know you can be something great.' She's also extremely judgemental."
This was your comment, correct? Here is my answer. Yes, Bonnie can draw, but I don't know where you got the impression Bonnie can sing. Yes, she did win the contest, but it was because Hiromi carried her mostly through it - he was only partnering with her because she spoke Spanish and English. If you'll recall in chapter 10, during the actual contest, she only 'murmurs' Spanish undertones to the music and then merely cuts in with a few English words. When she actually does have a solo, it is mentioned that this is the one song she can actually sing because her voice isn't high enough to perform most pieces. Have you ever heard Paradise by Yoko Kanno? It's not hard to sing - Raj Ramayya has a beautiful voice, but it's not exactly like she hits any high notes. If anything she talks through that song more than she sings. Also, you comment that 'everyone loves her'. Umm...did you perhaps miss this paragraph from the third chapter?
'Since she wasn't allowed to see most movies, by rule of her strict mother, she wasn't invited to social outings much. Sometimes she felt neglected for her lack of friends. She couldn't dance, she couldn't sing, she couldn't do much of anything and had never picked up a sport.'
See? Not everyone loves Bonnie - the poor girl is practically friendless save for her buddies at the flower shop. People like her, however, because she is kind. Also, it is worth mentioning that in chapter four, she remarks to her mother that she hardly has any friends. And, in chapter six, at the party, she is neglected by her classmates and talks only to Megan, who is also a social outcast. I could go on and on, but hopefully you have caught my drift by now. Moving on... On the note of curing Farfarello - well, I could've drawn this out forever and ever, but I really don't have that much free time so I skipped a great deal from the time to when they talk into the storage room, hopping next to her last day of school - a period of a few months. As for the judgmental part - she has standards, something I believe most girls lack today. By judgmental I am assuming you are talking about her dislike of Yohji's and Schu's incessant flirting, since I really don't know who else she would judge. *shrugs* I, personally, don't like girls who find sleaziness an attractive quality since it only displays just how stupid they really are, so I wasn't about to make her swoon over the two sluts of Weiss Kruez.
SCHULDIG:
You know, it'd take a long time to try to change your opinion on Schuldig, and even then you probably wouldn't care, so I'm not going to be as thorough. In short, all I can say is, Schuldig wasn't the caring type as an assassin, but it's been three years and he has had some 'experiences' since his assassination days. I wasn't going to introduce what he did in Germany to the story so soon, but I guess I will now that you have brought it up. Oh, and you said Schuldig begging was just wrong? Sorry, but I really can't remember when I ever made him beg. Could you please be more specific?
FARFARELLO: *shrugs* You've got some excellent points there, but even if Farfarello says Jei is dead, I would like to think that Jei is still a personality harbored deep within. If Farfarello was once a nice, innocent little boy, I find it hard to believe that he could never revert back to being kind, or even sane. I mean, being an assassin was a great little trip to keep anyone insane, but living in a totally different world with people who care about you and only want to help you might just change you back... It's happened a thousand times in real life - for example, there's a true story (darn it! Can't remember the title!) in the book 'Stories to Warm the Heart'. It's about how one woman (the jail keeper's wife) showed a prison full of supposedly heartless murderers that she cared about them and wanted to help them. Years later, when she died, each murderer attended her funeral and cried for her.
PLOT THINGS:
Ok, you asked how Bonnie could so calmly accept Farf as an assassin but not appreciate the sleazy tendencies of Yohji and Schuldig. Well, believe it or not, I actually know a man (strange turn of events, let me tell you) who used to be a mercenary assassin in another country before he moved back to America and joined the police force as a sniper (of course he's a bit older than I am). I also know some boys who are forever ogling girls and sleeping around. I am less tolerant of these boys because this is how they are currently acting and not only is disrespectful, but I find it disgusting and never feel safe around them. As for the sniper, the assassinations were in his past and he no longer does such things (unless you can't the occasional sniping, which is lawful, I guess), so it is easier to accept. But these are just based on my personal feelings, and of course you could always say, "But Farf's relationship with Bonnie is different than your connection to this sniper, and Farf is psycho and so on and so on." But you didn't ask about any of that - you merely wanted to know why it is more tolerable for Bonnie to be around a past assassin rather than a playboy. I suppose the reason is because, put in that situation, I find it more comfortable to be with someone who used to assassinate, rather than someone who is always staring at my chest and making perverted comments. Oh, and the dinner thing with Farf, Brad let it happen as sort of a test to see if he could take it, and well, I'm sorry, but that's how I had it happen and it's too late to change it. *shrugs*
Well, I hope that cleared things up not only for Fahm, but also for everyone else who might be worrying about these things. Thank you, Fahm, for your...err, honest review! ^_^ Please continue to read and perhaps I can win a good review from you as well.
Now I really feel as if I've taken too much time on this already, so on with the fic!
STORY TIME!!!
~~~~~
"AH!" Bonnie flailed away from the Irishman in shock, groping hurriedly at the car door and tumbling out backwards when it swung open. She hit the pavement hard, grunted in pain, and then scooted back as far as she could when Farfarello poked his head curiously out.
"Ye alright?" he asked, carefully picking her up and setting her on her feet, brushing the dirt off her back. "Did it surprise ye that much?"
"Umm... Yes." She glanced away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Having Farfarello say he loved her made her look at him in a totally different light. Love was a serious thing. Was he good for her? Could she depend on him? "Farfarello, there are a lot of complications involved with this..."
He cocked his head to the side. "Complications?"
"My parents don't trust you at all, and I'm a Christian - a pastor's daughter at that! You hate my religion and I can't be with someone who hates the biggest part of who I am!"
"I could never hate ye," he said solemnly.
"But you hate what I believe in."
"It matters?" He looked a bit miffed. "Don' seem fair - I hafta change but ye don'?"
"Umm..." she shrugged helplessly, suddenly uncomfortable. "Why do you hate God so much anyway?"
His eye glinted at her spitefully, and he remained silent. Obviously, he wasn't going to talk. And then, finally, he said tightly, "It isn't enough for me to just accept that you have this lil' belief of yours?"
"It's not enough for you to just 'accept' it. I need someone who believes what I believe. I'm sorry - it's just the way I am..."
His lips tightened into a thin line, a bit like Aya did sometimes when he was displeased - but more scary. He wasn't happy - he was disappointed. His expression was now icy and wintry, and the scars on his face seemed more defined now that he was scowling angrily. "Ye are rejecting me, eh?"
"No, Jei, it's not like that," she whispered weakly, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. He smacked it away, and although it wasn't rough, the action stung and cut deep into her feelings. "Please, I really like you. I want to be your friend - but this is who I am!"
"And this is who I am," he grunted, turning away and walking around to the front of his car in a stiff gait, jerking open the door stiffly. He seemed to be restraining himself from doing something awful. "I am Farfarello - I am not Jei. I despise ye for trying to make me into that person - tryin' to force me to conform so I fit yer idea of who I should be. I don' believe in what you do, and I don' want to try." He paused before sliding into the driver's seat, leaning against the roof of his vehicle with a clenched jaw. "Ye know, Bonbon," he continued, and the when he said her nickname, his voice dripped with defiance, "they say ye made me sane because ye cared, but ye know what - I don' think ye ever cared. Yer beliefs dictated ye ta, so ye obeyed. Hmm. I misread yer actions. Forget what I said." And with that, he sat down, slammed the door, and turned on the engine.
Bonnie backed away slowly from the car as it pulled out, feeling her heart slowly sinking to the pit of her stomach. She felt absolutely sick. Farfarello was driving away without her, leaving her there in the park. He was so mad that he wasn't even going to drive her home! And when he was out of sight, she still felt very along and so much colder, even though it was a heated summer day. Hugging her arms tight to her chest, she walked over to a park bench and sat down. Should she just start walking?
It was such a beautiful day - sunny and blue-skied without a cloud in sight. The trees and grass were a brilliant, vivid green, swaying gently with the warm breeze. Why did such nice weather have to be ruined by something like this?
Her hazel eyes shut for a second as she sighed deeply.
Did this mean she and Farfarello were not on speaking terms anymore?
Standing, she tucked a loose curl behind her ear and started the long walk back to the flower shop.
~~~~~~
"Hey, Naggles, I just want to say...THANKS A LOT!" Schuldig was leaning in the doorway to the apartment that Nagi and Omi shared, the former Weiss boy currently in the bathroom brushing his teeth while Nagi stood opposite the German, scowling at his disgruntled friend. The man had suddenly shown up, wearing only black pajama pants, and had banged an angry fist on the door, which led to where they currently stood, facing off one another. "I hope you know you made me look like a complete dirt bag today."
"You are a complete dirt bag," Nagi answered coolly, matter-of-factly. "And I think lots of people know it. Why does it bother you so much now that I've confronted you?"
Schuldig narrowed his eyes, although his flame colored eyebrows raised at the same time. It didn't appear to be an easy task, and made him look so much more annoyed and even a bit older. Actually, Nagi decided, it was a strange sight to see. But what was most unnerving was the silence.
"What is your problem?!" Nagi exclaimed, throwing his hands up in annoyance. "If anything you should be happy I yelled at you like that! You're guilty, remember? They didn't know that - and know they do."
Schuldig only shook his head, the resentment in his expression shocking Nagi into speechlessness. His breathing had accelerated a little, and he shrugged back his shoulders in an effort to either release tension or contain it - Nagi wasn't sure which. "Did you -" He started to say, and then shook his head, the dull sunset colored hair swirling about his tan face. Obvious frustration at his lack of ability to put his thoughts into words shone clearly through his deep blue eyes. Eyes like oceans. "Yeah, so they do," he grumbled, and walked away.
Almost as soon as Schuldig had vanished, ambling on back to where he had come from, Nagi shot out of his room and down the hall to the apartment a few doors down. "Brad!" he called, rapping hurriedly on the wood, only to have a disgruntled redhead answer, his violet eyes sleepy.
"Crawford is on the phone," Aya said gruffly, and then turned to walk back into the apartment, most likely going to bed.
Nagi wasn't deterred in the least; seeing that Aya had left the door slightly ajar, he opened it the rest of the way and dashed in, running through the small living room and into Brad's bedroom, where the man was conversing in quiet tones on the phone, just as Aya had said. His hazel eyes slid over to take in Nagi briefly, and then he murmured a low noise of understanding. The conversation ended shortly after that as he quietly said, in English no less, "Alright. Nagi just ran in here looking like he's about to explode, so I'll let you go, Bonnie. Try not to worry." And he hung up, the phone returning to its cradle with a delicate click.
Nagi blinked in surprise. "You were talking to Bonnie?"
"Yes," he answered dryly, swiveling his chair around to face his desk again, slouching as if he were very bored. "She is upset. It seems Farfarello took her to the park today, confessed his love for her, and then, after a slight argument, drove away and left her there. She was forced to walk the two miles back to the flower shop." The only reason he pointed that fact out was because Bonnie had emphasized on the distance, as well as the fact that she had been wearing sandals.
Temporarily, Nagi forgot why he had come. "Farfarello left Bonnie like that? Did he have a lapse of sanity or something?"
Crawford shook his head slowly, holding his chin in his hand as he pondered the situation. "No, it's more like he's been having a lapse of his INSANITY. All I can say is...this hasn't been entirely unexpected. I regret dragging Bonnie into this mess." He paused. "In fact, I did foresaw this. But it's not like I could stop her without giving away my gift."
Nagi let his head lazily drop to the side, expression flat. "Maybe we should send him away somewhere..."
Crawford shrugged. "I'm taking it into consideration."
Somehow though, they both felt guilty. Discussing the Irishman's fate so offhandedly didn't seem quite right, especially after they had gone through so much trouble to help him. After all, Farfarello wasn't a monster - at least not anymore - he was a human being, and didn't he deserve something better than what he currently had?
"So," Crawford murmured, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "why'd you come here?"
"Oh, Schuldig. Right." Nagi set a fist onto his open palm determinedly, clearing his throat. "We had a fight today in the flower shop in front of all the girls. I called him...well, I don't remember what I called him but basically I was referring to his sleaziness. He seemed like he was fine after the initial shock wore off, but a few moments ago, he showed up at my door and tried to chew me out, but he seemed too upset." Nagi looked expectantly at his former leader, and when the American man said nothing, he prompted, "Brad, he talks to you. I know he does. And even if he doesn't, you still know everything about us. What in the world would upset him so much? If anything I expected him to smirk and make some sort of dirty remark back at the flower shop, something to totally embarrass me and make all the girls blush. It's really weird - where'd the old sadistic, German slut go to?"
Brad removed his glasses slowly, staring with a strange, intense look at the younger man. Currently, Crawford was dressed for bed, wearing gray sweat pants and a white T-shirt that was a size to big. He used the hem of his shirt to carefully polish the framed lenses. "Nagi," he slowly, quietly began, "do you know what it is that Schuldig did for a living in Germany?"
The boy shook his head, a strange sort of fear gnawing away at his insides now. Schuldig had moved back to his home country shortly after Schwartz broke up, but had come back not too long after. Perhaps only about seven months. Crawford had paid for him to fly in, and Nagi had been there to meet him at the airport, and suddenly, he recalled how something - no, more like everything - had looked so odd about the German when he got off that plane. He'd always been thin, but at that time, he'd been painfully skinny, nothing but bones. His hair had grown even longer, down to his waist almost, and had been bleached blonde and put up in a high ponytail. The way he talked and carried himself was almost...hesitant. He was so weak, he couldn't even carry both his suitcases to the car.
He'd had his hair cut to shoulder-length and dyed red again on the way home. That had been a huge relief for Nagi. Schuldig looked too feminine with such long tresses.
He'd eaten up a storm that night and holed up in his room with bags of junk food and all kinds of take out for the next few weeks, emerging as a new person when he finally did choose to come out. Nagi had also been happy to see he had gained weight. Schuldig's body was still slender, but at least not anorexic looking after that.
He started to fall back into an old routine of talking obnoxiously and sitting in front on the couch all day to watch TV. He hadn't started going to clubs until they met with Weiss and Yohji actually invited him along, seeing as how his current girlfriend had demanded he find a date for her friend.
Brought back to the present by Crawford rising from his seat, Nagi shook his head in faint surprise. "No," he murmured, "I have no idea what Schuldig did for a living."
Crawford cleared his throat again, this time behind his fist. "The same thing he usually did when he was part of Schwartz and we had a free night. Only over there, he did it for money."
Nagi should've turned and walked away then, but curiosity kept him rooted to the spot. "He sold himself?"
"What else was he going to do? He had just escaped the life of an assassin."
Nagi could think of tons of other possibilities, including stealing, using his telepathy, and candlestick making. But knowing Schuldig, the German had most likely assumed the path he had chosen would be easiest, and besides, it's not like he didn't already have a lot of dirt on his hands.
"But, I thought - wait...when he first came back, he was so skinny and his hair was long - he looked like he was trying to..." Nagi was having trouble processing thoughts. "No. I mean, Schuldig couldn't have done that, but when we saw him, he looked like..." He clutched at his head. "Schuldig likes girls!" he finally cried, eyes shutting tightly in exasperation.
"One can't be too picky in that profession," Crawford said quietly. "Do you understand now? Schuldig has been sensitive on the subject ever since then. He's not proud of what he did because he failed in more ways than one, and coming back here was his attempt at starting over. He didn't think he'd feel bad about something like that, but apparently, he soon found that he was quite ashamed of himself. I suppose I can't adequately express his feelings though. Ask him yourself."
Nagi nodded dumbly, feeling like a stupid little boy. He turned to leave, but one final warning from Brad stalled him, if only for a moment.
"Nagi, consider carefully what you say to him from now on. After all, he's only human - and one that's been abused at that..."
~~~~~
Ken was scared.
Ken was extremely scared.
Farfarello was not in a good mood and was currently ripping up sheets of paper with his teeth in an almost absent minded manner. Ken wondered if this was a normal habit of his, to just tear apart a whole notebook and then spit out the paper, all the while having a glazed look in his eye. Perhaps he should slip into the bathroom and discreetly call Crawford.
"Hello, Brad - is it normal for the Beserker to eat paper?" What a joke.
Shuddering, the soccer player turned back to his computer and to typing up the game schedule for his children. They were doing well for their age, and were all very eager to learn more from him. It made him smile, really, just being able to help those kids to love the same sport he did.
What didn't make him smile was that Farfarello was now staring at him distantly, a scowl on his face.
Ken shifted uncomfortably and then turned around his seat, frowning. "Why'd you leave Bonnie at the park today?" he demanded, knowing this was the source of the bad mood.
"Because I hate her," he sniffed.
"I thought you loved her."
"And I thought ye had other things ta do besides sign yer death warrant."
Ken's mouth opened to say something, but he decided against it. Licking nervously at his dry lips, he turned around again and resumed typing. However, he could not get over being frightened of the Irishman, as silly as he knew that was. Farfarello was sane - right? Haha. Right. Beserker was sane. That's what Brad said. Wait - didn't Brad hate Ken? Hadn't he recently spilled coffee on Brad's white suit, and then received one of those infamous death glares. Yikes! This was all an elaborate conspiracy to get rid of him! Brad must've foreseen the coffee incident, lied to all the others about Farfarello undergoing therapy, and then secretly paid the Irishman to take him out at night! How else could his being paired up with Farfarello as a roommate be explained?
Because Ken didn't have a good enough job to pay even half the rent so Brad was practically donating his share so he could baby-sit Farfarello...
Anyhow, he couldn't quite see Bonnie in on this either, seeing as how she was the one trying to help Farfarello so much. She hadn't spoken to him for a week after he had deliberately killed a garter snake he had found in the garage. 'It was harmless!' she had cried. 'You didn't have to be so cruel!'
But maybe that is why she was in on the conspiracy...
Ken, you're such an idiot, Ken mentally chattered away to himself, still aware of Farfarello glaring at him with his one, yellow eye. You're a past assassin too - you can deal with this. But Farfarello was strong... Sure, he didn't look like too much, but he possessed a very powerful inner rage and the ability to feel no pain. No one could beat Farfarello, it seemed.
Except for...
Ken blinked in surprise. Now that he was thinking of it, how did those three guys from several months ago beat Farfarello to a pulp in the park? How in the world had they been able to send him to the hospital? Ken knew better than to ask, but he couldn't help it. He was just too darn curious. And as Schuldig once said to him: 'Curiosity killed the cat'.
"Farfarello," he said carefully, "why did you lose that fight against those three racist guys?"
Ok, so he had phrased it horribly. No one ever said Ken had tact.
Farfarello, who now sat on his bed, hunched over, didn't need to direct his attention to Ken. He'd been staring at the other man for what seemed like hours. The dark brooding look on his face only intensified when he heard the question. "I dinna have a knife," he answered shortly.
Hmm. Ken narrowed his eyes. Was that all it really took? For Farfarello not to have a knife?
"And I was drunk," he added, for the first time glancing away. "And I don' fight well when I'm drunk." He paused, looking almost like he had said too much.
"That's funny," Ken remarked lightly, "because some people - like Aya, for instance - become very violent when drunk. It only seems to improve his strength." He grinned, forgetting for a moment who he was talking to, and remarked cheerfully, "You must be a happy drunk!"
Farfarello's single eye widened in something akin to horror, but more like a type of horror that you feel for someone else, not for yourself, and in this case he was feeling it for Ken because surely the boy was about to die, but it suddenly faded. He was too exhausted to do anything about the last comment, so instead he curled up on his bed and drifted off to sleep.
~~~~~~
Yes! The time has finally come for the plot to darken! It's a trip from here, ppl! ~_^ Wait till the next chapter - Farfarello's cruelty to Bonnie only increases... REVIEW!!
Misura: Thank you so much for your kind words! I don't know why, but in my head, Schu will always have eyes of jade... lol I'm glad to see I'm not alone though! I would also like to thank you for reviewing each chapter separately - that's really nice.
Heaven Star: Hehe...I like to think Schu has a thoughtful side. Anime is infamous for taking a bad guy and making you love him - sometimes this is merely because they are gorgeous and irresistible, and other times it is because you feel sorry for them. Then, there is that not so rare occasion where they take the bad guy and give you a look at his kinder, more thoughtful side. Weiss Kruez never did that for Schuldig, so I just decided to. I know some people don't like that, but on the plus side, some people do ^_^
Schwarz_Ryu: Wait no longer! I have updated!
Any: I can't help it if I like reviews! *pouts* Actually, I'm just trying to break my own personal record and maybe, just MAYBE get a 100 reviews... I sort of doubt that will happen with this story though - I have a better chance with Death Song. That one has 80 reviews to date! Yay!
Kamazova: Thanks for your review! All because of you, Farfarello will SOMEHOW live... Oh, and I am getting this inkling you don't like my Death Song fic as much...lol Well, I would address some of your questions and comments on that story, but that'd just be out of place here...
Fahm: Ahh...your review was quite interesting. Now, I dissected it and carefully thought up answers to all your complaints. Here ya' go.
BONNIE:
First, let's address how much you hate Bonnie.
"I don't like Bonnie. She can draw, she can sing, everyone loves her, and she can manage to 'cure' Farf with just a few lines like 'I know you can be something great.' She's also extremely judgemental."
This was your comment, correct? Here is my answer. Yes, Bonnie can draw, but I don't know where you got the impression Bonnie can sing. Yes, she did win the contest, but it was because Hiromi carried her mostly through it - he was only partnering with her because she spoke Spanish and English. If you'll recall in chapter 10, during the actual contest, she only 'murmurs' Spanish undertones to the music and then merely cuts in with a few English words. When she actually does have a solo, it is mentioned that this is the one song she can actually sing because her voice isn't high enough to perform most pieces. Have you ever heard Paradise by Yoko Kanno? It's not hard to sing - Raj Ramayya has a beautiful voice, but it's not exactly like she hits any high notes. If anything she talks through that song more than she sings. Also, you comment that 'everyone loves her'. Umm...did you perhaps miss this paragraph from the third chapter?
'Since she wasn't allowed to see most movies, by rule of her strict mother, she wasn't invited to social outings much. Sometimes she felt neglected for her lack of friends. She couldn't dance, she couldn't sing, she couldn't do much of anything and had never picked up a sport.'
See? Not everyone loves Bonnie - the poor girl is practically friendless save for her buddies at the flower shop. People like her, however, because she is kind. Also, it is worth mentioning that in chapter four, she remarks to her mother that she hardly has any friends. And, in chapter six, at the party, she is neglected by her classmates and talks only to Megan, who is also a social outcast. I could go on and on, but hopefully you have caught my drift by now. Moving on... On the note of curing Farfarello - well, I could've drawn this out forever and ever, but I really don't have that much free time so I skipped a great deal from the time to when they talk into the storage room, hopping next to her last day of school - a period of a few months. As for the judgmental part - she has standards, something I believe most girls lack today. By judgmental I am assuming you are talking about her dislike of Yohji's and Schu's incessant flirting, since I really don't know who else she would judge. *shrugs* I, personally, don't like girls who find sleaziness an attractive quality since it only displays just how stupid they really are, so I wasn't about to make her swoon over the two sluts of Weiss Kruez.
SCHULDIG:
You know, it'd take a long time to try to change your opinion on Schuldig, and even then you probably wouldn't care, so I'm not going to be as thorough. In short, all I can say is, Schuldig wasn't the caring type as an assassin, but it's been three years and he has had some 'experiences' since his assassination days. I wasn't going to introduce what he did in Germany to the story so soon, but I guess I will now that you have brought it up. Oh, and you said Schuldig begging was just wrong? Sorry, but I really can't remember when I ever made him beg. Could you please be more specific?
FARFARELLO: *shrugs* You've got some excellent points there, but even if Farfarello says Jei is dead, I would like to think that Jei is still a personality harbored deep within. If Farfarello was once a nice, innocent little boy, I find it hard to believe that he could never revert back to being kind, or even sane. I mean, being an assassin was a great little trip to keep anyone insane, but living in a totally different world with people who care about you and only want to help you might just change you back... It's happened a thousand times in real life - for example, there's a true story (darn it! Can't remember the title!) in the book 'Stories to Warm the Heart'. It's about how one woman (the jail keeper's wife) showed a prison full of supposedly heartless murderers that she cared about them and wanted to help them. Years later, when she died, each murderer attended her funeral and cried for her.
PLOT THINGS:
Ok, you asked how Bonnie could so calmly accept Farf as an assassin but not appreciate the sleazy tendencies of Yohji and Schuldig. Well, believe it or not, I actually know a man (strange turn of events, let me tell you) who used to be a mercenary assassin in another country before he moved back to America and joined the police force as a sniper (of course he's a bit older than I am). I also know some boys who are forever ogling girls and sleeping around. I am less tolerant of these boys because this is how they are currently acting and not only is disrespectful, but I find it disgusting and never feel safe around them. As for the sniper, the assassinations were in his past and he no longer does such things (unless you can't the occasional sniping, which is lawful, I guess), so it is easier to accept. But these are just based on my personal feelings, and of course you could always say, "But Farf's relationship with Bonnie is different than your connection to this sniper, and Farf is psycho and so on and so on." But you didn't ask about any of that - you merely wanted to know why it is more tolerable for Bonnie to be around a past assassin rather than a playboy. I suppose the reason is because, put in that situation, I find it more comfortable to be with someone who used to assassinate, rather than someone who is always staring at my chest and making perverted comments. Oh, and the dinner thing with Farf, Brad let it happen as sort of a test to see if he could take it, and well, I'm sorry, but that's how I had it happen and it's too late to change it. *shrugs*
Well, I hope that cleared things up not only for Fahm, but also for everyone else who might be worrying about these things. Thank you, Fahm, for your...err, honest review! ^_^ Please continue to read and perhaps I can win a good review from you as well.
Now I really feel as if I've taken too much time on this already, so on with the fic!
STORY TIME!!!
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"AH!" Bonnie flailed away from the Irishman in shock, groping hurriedly at the car door and tumbling out backwards when it swung open. She hit the pavement hard, grunted in pain, and then scooted back as far as she could when Farfarello poked his head curiously out.
"Ye alright?" he asked, carefully picking her up and setting her on her feet, brushing the dirt off her back. "Did it surprise ye that much?"
"Umm... Yes." She glanced away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Having Farfarello say he loved her made her look at him in a totally different light. Love was a serious thing. Was he good for her? Could she depend on him? "Farfarello, there are a lot of complications involved with this..."
He cocked his head to the side. "Complications?"
"My parents don't trust you at all, and I'm a Christian - a pastor's daughter at that! You hate my religion and I can't be with someone who hates the biggest part of who I am!"
"I could never hate ye," he said solemnly.
"But you hate what I believe in."
"It matters?" He looked a bit miffed. "Don' seem fair - I hafta change but ye don'?"
"Umm..." she shrugged helplessly, suddenly uncomfortable. "Why do you hate God so much anyway?"
His eye glinted at her spitefully, and he remained silent. Obviously, he wasn't going to talk. And then, finally, he said tightly, "It isn't enough for me to just accept that you have this lil' belief of yours?"
"It's not enough for you to just 'accept' it. I need someone who believes what I believe. I'm sorry - it's just the way I am..."
His lips tightened into a thin line, a bit like Aya did sometimes when he was displeased - but more scary. He wasn't happy - he was disappointed. His expression was now icy and wintry, and the scars on his face seemed more defined now that he was scowling angrily. "Ye are rejecting me, eh?"
"No, Jei, it's not like that," she whispered weakly, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. He smacked it away, and although it wasn't rough, the action stung and cut deep into her feelings. "Please, I really like you. I want to be your friend - but this is who I am!"
"And this is who I am," he grunted, turning away and walking around to the front of his car in a stiff gait, jerking open the door stiffly. He seemed to be restraining himself from doing something awful. "I am Farfarello - I am not Jei. I despise ye for trying to make me into that person - tryin' to force me to conform so I fit yer idea of who I should be. I don' believe in what you do, and I don' want to try." He paused before sliding into the driver's seat, leaning against the roof of his vehicle with a clenched jaw. "Ye know, Bonbon," he continued, and the when he said her nickname, his voice dripped with defiance, "they say ye made me sane because ye cared, but ye know what - I don' think ye ever cared. Yer beliefs dictated ye ta, so ye obeyed. Hmm. I misread yer actions. Forget what I said." And with that, he sat down, slammed the door, and turned on the engine.
Bonnie backed away slowly from the car as it pulled out, feeling her heart slowly sinking to the pit of her stomach. She felt absolutely sick. Farfarello was driving away without her, leaving her there in the park. He was so mad that he wasn't even going to drive her home! And when he was out of sight, she still felt very along and so much colder, even though it was a heated summer day. Hugging her arms tight to her chest, she walked over to a park bench and sat down. Should she just start walking?
It was such a beautiful day - sunny and blue-skied without a cloud in sight. The trees and grass were a brilliant, vivid green, swaying gently with the warm breeze. Why did such nice weather have to be ruined by something like this?
Her hazel eyes shut for a second as she sighed deeply.
Did this mean she and Farfarello were not on speaking terms anymore?
Standing, she tucked a loose curl behind her ear and started the long walk back to the flower shop.
~~~~~~
"Hey, Naggles, I just want to say...THANKS A LOT!" Schuldig was leaning in the doorway to the apartment that Nagi and Omi shared, the former Weiss boy currently in the bathroom brushing his teeth while Nagi stood opposite the German, scowling at his disgruntled friend. The man had suddenly shown up, wearing only black pajama pants, and had banged an angry fist on the door, which led to where they currently stood, facing off one another. "I hope you know you made me look like a complete dirt bag today."
"You are a complete dirt bag," Nagi answered coolly, matter-of-factly. "And I think lots of people know it. Why does it bother you so much now that I've confronted you?"
Schuldig narrowed his eyes, although his flame colored eyebrows raised at the same time. It didn't appear to be an easy task, and made him look so much more annoyed and even a bit older. Actually, Nagi decided, it was a strange sight to see. But what was most unnerving was the silence.
"What is your problem?!" Nagi exclaimed, throwing his hands up in annoyance. "If anything you should be happy I yelled at you like that! You're guilty, remember? They didn't know that - and know they do."
Schuldig only shook his head, the resentment in his expression shocking Nagi into speechlessness. His breathing had accelerated a little, and he shrugged back his shoulders in an effort to either release tension or contain it - Nagi wasn't sure which. "Did you -" He started to say, and then shook his head, the dull sunset colored hair swirling about his tan face. Obvious frustration at his lack of ability to put his thoughts into words shone clearly through his deep blue eyes. Eyes like oceans. "Yeah, so they do," he grumbled, and walked away.
Almost as soon as Schuldig had vanished, ambling on back to where he had come from, Nagi shot out of his room and down the hall to the apartment a few doors down. "Brad!" he called, rapping hurriedly on the wood, only to have a disgruntled redhead answer, his violet eyes sleepy.
"Crawford is on the phone," Aya said gruffly, and then turned to walk back into the apartment, most likely going to bed.
Nagi wasn't deterred in the least; seeing that Aya had left the door slightly ajar, he opened it the rest of the way and dashed in, running through the small living room and into Brad's bedroom, where the man was conversing in quiet tones on the phone, just as Aya had said. His hazel eyes slid over to take in Nagi briefly, and then he murmured a low noise of understanding. The conversation ended shortly after that as he quietly said, in English no less, "Alright. Nagi just ran in here looking like he's about to explode, so I'll let you go, Bonnie. Try not to worry." And he hung up, the phone returning to its cradle with a delicate click.
Nagi blinked in surprise. "You were talking to Bonnie?"
"Yes," he answered dryly, swiveling his chair around to face his desk again, slouching as if he were very bored. "She is upset. It seems Farfarello took her to the park today, confessed his love for her, and then, after a slight argument, drove away and left her there. She was forced to walk the two miles back to the flower shop." The only reason he pointed that fact out was because Bonnie had emphasized on the distance, as well as the fact that she had been wearing sandals.
Temporarily, Nagi forgot why he had come. "Farfarello left Bonnie like that? Did he have a lapse of sanity or something?"
Crawford shook his head slowly, holding his chin in his hand as he pondered the situation. "No, it's more like he's been having a lapse of his INSANITY. All I can say is...this hasn't been entirely unexpected. I regret dragging Bonnie into this mess." He paused. "In fact, I did foresaw this. But it's not like I could stop her without giving away my gift."
Nagi let his head lazily drop to the side, expression flat. "Maybe we should send him away somewhere..."
Crawford shrugged. "I'm taking it into consideration."
Somehow though, they both felt guilty. Discussing the Irishman's fate so offhandedly didn't seem quite right, especially after they had gone through so much trouble to help him. After all, Farfarello wasn't a monster - at least not anymore - he was a human being, and didn't he deserve something better than what he currently had?
"So," Crawford murmured, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "why'd you come here?"
"Oh, Schuldig. Right." Nagi set a fist onto his open palm determinedly, clearing his throat. "We had a fight today in the flower shop in front of all the girls. I called him...well, I don't remember what I called him but basically I was referring to his sleaziness. He seemed like he was fine after the initial shock wore off, but a few moments ago, he showed up at my door and tried to chew me out, but he seemed too upset." Nagi looked expectantly at his former leader, and when the American man said nothing, he prompted, "Brad, he talks to you. I know he does. And even if he doesn't, you still know everything about us. What in the world would upset him so much? If anything I expected him to smirk and make some sort of dirty remark back at the flower shop, something to totally embarrass me and make all the girls blush. It's really weird - where'd the old sadistic, German slut go to?"
Brad removed his glasses slowly, staring with a strange, intense look at the younger man. Currently, Crawford was dressed for bed, wearing gray sweat pants and a white T-shirt that was a size to big. He used the hem of his shirt to carefully polish the framed lenses. "Nagi," he slowly, quietly began, "do you know what it is that Schuldig did for a living in Germany?"
The boy shook his head, a strange sort of fear gnawing away at his insides now. Schuldig had moved back to his home country shortly after Schwartz broke up, but had come back not too long after. Perhaps only about seven months. Crawford had paid for him to fly in, and Nagi had been there to meet him at the airport, and suddenly, he recalled how something - no, more like everything - had looked so odd about the German when he got off that plane. He'd always been thin, but at that time, he'd been painfully skinny, nothing but bones. His hair had grown even longer, down to his waist almost, and had been bleached blonde and put up in a high ponytail. The way he talked and carried himself was almost...hesitant. He was so weak, he couldn't even carry both his suitcases to the car.
He'd had his hair cut to shoulder-length and dyed red again on the way home. That had been a huge relief for Nagi. Schuldig looked too feminine with such long tresses.
He'd eaten up a storm that night and holed up in his room with bags of junk food and all kinds of take out for the next few weeks, emerging as a new person when he finally did choose to come out. Nagi had also been happy to see he had gained weight. Schuldig's body was still slender, but at least not anorexic looking after that.
He started to fall back into an old routine of talking obnoxiously and sitting in front on the couch all day to watch TV. He hadn't started going to clubs until they met with Weiss and Yohji actually invited him along, seeing as how his current girlfriend had demanded he find a date for her friend.
Brought back to the present by Crawford rising from his seat, Nagi shook his head in faint surprise. "No," he murmured, "I have no idea what Schuldig did for a living."
Crawford cleared his throat again, this time behind his fist. "The same thing he usually did when he was part of Schwartz and we had a free night. Only over there, he did it for money."
Nagi should've turned and walked away then, but curiosity kept him rooted to the spot. "He sold himself?"
"What else was he going to do? He had just escaped the life of an assassin."
Nagi could think of tons of other possibilities, including stealing, using his telepathy, and candlestick making. But knowing Schuldig, the German had most likely assumed the path he had chosen would be easiest, and besides, it's not like he didn't already have a lot of dirt on his hands.
"But, I thought - wait...when he first came back, he was so skinny and his hair was long - he looked like he was trying to..." Nagi was having trouble processing thoughts. "No. I mean, Schuldig couldn't have done that, but when we saw him, he looked like..." He clutched at his head. "Schuldig likes girls!" he finally cried, eyes shutting tightly in exasperation.
"One can't be too picky in that profession," Crawford said quietly. "Do you understand now? Schuldig has been sensitive on the subject ever since then. He's not proud of what he did because he failed in more ways than one, and coming back here was his attempt at starting over. He didn't think he'd feel bad about something like that, but apparently, he soon found that he was quite ashamed of himself. I suppose I can't adequately express his feelings though. Ask him yourself."
Nagi nodded dumbly, feeling like a stupid little boy. He turned to leave, but one final warning from Brad stalled him, if only for a moment.
"Nagi, consider carefully what you say to him from now on. After all, he's only human - and one that's been abused at that..."
~~~~~
Ken was scared.
Ken was extremely scared.
Farfarello was not in a good mood and was currently ripping up sheets of paper with his teeth in an almost absent minded manner. Ken wondered if this was a normal habit of his, to just tear apart a whole notebook and then spit out the paper, all the while having a glazed look in his eye. Perhaps he should slip into the bathroom and discreetly call Crawford.
"Hello, Brad - is it normal for the Beserker to eat paper?" What a joke.
Shuddering, the soccer player turned back to his computer and to typing up the game schedule for his children. They were doing well for their age, and were all very eager to learn more from him. It made him smile, really, just being able to help those kids to love the same sport he did.
What didn't make him smile was that Farfarello was now staring at him distantly, a scowl on his face.
Ken shifted uncomfortably and then turned around his seat, frowning. "Why'd you leave Bonnie at the park today?" he demanded, knowing this was the source of the bad mood.
"Because I hate her," he sniffed.
"I thought you loved her."
"And I thought ye had other things ta do besides sign yer death warrant."
Ken's mouth opened to say something, but he decided against it. Licking nervously at his dry lips, he turned around again and resumed typing. However, he could not get over being frightened of the Irishman, as silly as he knew that was. Farfarello was sane - right? Haha. Right. Beserker was sane. That's what Brad said. Wait - didn't Brad hate Ken? Hadn't he recently spilled coffee on Brad's white suit, and then received one of those infamous death glares. Yikes! This was all an elaborate conspiracy to get rid of him! Brad must've foreseen the coffee incident, lied to all the others about Farfarello undergoing therapy, and then secretly paid the Irishman to take him out at night! How else could his being paired up with Farfarello as a roommate be explained?
Because Ken didn't have a good enough job to pay even half the rent so Brad was practically donating his share so he could baby-sit Farfarello...
Anyhow, he couldn't quite see Bonnie in on this either, seeing as how she was the one trying to help Farfarello so much. She hadn't spoken to him for a week after he had deliberately killed a garter snake he had found in the garage. 'It was harmless!' she had cried. 'You didn't have to be so cruel!'
But maybe that is why she was in on the conspiracy...
Ken, you're such an idiot, Ken mentally chattered away to himself, still aware of Farfarello glaring at him with his one, yellow eye. You're a past assassin too - you can deal with this. But Farfarello was strong... Sure, he didn't look like too much, but he possessed a very powerful inner rage and the ability to feel no pain. No one could beat Farfarello, it seemed.
Except for...
Ken blinked in surprise. Now that he was thinking of it, how did those three guys from several months ago beat Farfarello to a pulp in the park? How in the world had they been able to send him to the hospital? Ken knew better than to ask, but he couldn't help it. He was just too darn curious. And as Schuldig once said to him: 'Curiosity killed the cat'.
"Farfarello," he said carefully, "why did you lose that fight against those three racist guys?"
Ok, so he had phrased it horribly. No one ever said Ken had tact.
Farfarello, who now sat on his bed, hunched over, didn't need to direct his attention to Ken. He'd been staring at the other man for what seemed like hours. The dark brooding look on his face only intensified when he heard the question. "I dinna have a knife," he answered shortly.
Hmm. Ken narrowed his eyes. Was that all it really took? For Farfarello not to have a knife?
"And I was drunk," he added, for the first time glancing away. "And I don' fight well when I'm drunk." He paused, looking almost like he had said too much.
"That's funny," Ken remarked lightly, "because some people - like Aya, for instance - become very violent when drunk. It only seems to improve his strength." He grinned, forgetting for a moment who he was talking to, and remarked cheerfully, "You must be a happy drunk!"
Farfarello's single eye widened in something akin to horror, but more like a type of horror that you feel for someone else, not for yourself, and in this case he was feeling it for Ken because surely the boy was about to die, but it suddenly faded. He was too exhausted to do anything about the last comment, so instead he curled up on his bed and drifted off to sleep.
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Yes! The time has finally come for the plot to darken! It's a trip from here, ppl! ~_^ Wait till the next chapter - Farfarello's cruelty to Bonnie only increases... REVIEW!!