Disclaimer: I do not own Nagi, Crawford, Weiss, Schwarz, my computer, my
TV, my house, my dog (she's actually my sister's...). Yep, I own nothing!!!
Hurray, for non-owners like pathetic me!
A/Ns: Okay, this went a little too sad and dark than planned... But please read and review! I want to know what you think.
Warnings: Slightly implied Nagi/Crawford.
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Hello Again
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A lone silhouette stood against paling full moon. The glowing orb vivified the city, outshining the electrical lights tonight. Even the smutty city with its crimes and gangs and hookers seemed to be holding its breath in silence... The entire world seemed to be waiting... Waiting for a lost somebody to become just another could-happen-to-anybody...
And yet...
The stars and the moon and the heavens seemed to be distracted by other matters... Of course, that was to be expected. Compared to the vast ocean of stars, this planet, this city, this silhouette meant nothing. They were all tiny insects, overlooked, uncared for...
It only made him feel even more unimportant... Standing on the roof of that building, he noticed that downward was a world that was waiting patiently and upward was a vastness that he wasn't even significant enough to be ignored by. It was like looking back and forth from Hell to Heaven.
He grimaced wryly, realizing that Hell was the only one who cared about him. Here he was, standing on the edge, ready to jump off at any given moment, and he only deserved to be noticed by the demons of this life. And possibly the next life.
There's only so much one person can take... Seeing your own death (or would that be deaths, seeing as he avoided so many of those foreseen events?)... Knowing when it would happen, how it would happen... Recognizing the fact that he was only a tool... A tool for Takatori. A tool for Estet. A tool for Rosenkreuz... Possibly a tool for even his own teammates... They didn't need him - they needed his gift. Because that's all that mattered, right? That's all his was, wasn't it? Oracle. Just the Oracle. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just a man defined by his talent...
But it wasn't a talent, was it? It was a mere trick. Like a double-headed coin, something he could cheat with and use to deceive this cynical world. He was just a poker dealer, cheating at his own game.
He knew that Schuldich would be leaving. Oh, yes, he already knew that and had known it for a long time. He knew that Farfarello couldn't be forced to stay either. And Nagi... Nagi had shown weakness in his own emotionless facade when he save that girl Tot. It wasn't long until their deaths... Until their end...
And like hell he'd ever let someone else try to gain comfort from his gift. His sight was his own. He didn't need to be examined or used... He was not a toy thing for the toddlers, who had been bestowed power of nations, to play with.
Sure, he could easily overthrow those fools on their high thrones... But he already know how, when, and why he would be doing it. There was no challenge in it. He was a ambitious worker - a man who always finished what he started. But he had reached his limit... Because that's all his gift was - a limit.
"Well, I suppose I should stop stalling...," whispered the man, pushing his frameless glasses up for one last time. Smirking, he wondered what all those fools would do without his sight. Oh, yes, he was getting a grim satisfaction from this, as only he could.
He slowly toed his way to the inevitable drop.
He took a deep breath and...
... Nearly screamed bloody murder when a small frame attached itself to his arm. But the yell got caught somewhere in his throat, never rising to the surface. The quivering boy stood defiantly next to the man, latched on to the other's arm.
"Hello," the gentle boy said, warming the man's side.
"Nagi, what are you doing?" the velvety thunder rolled. It was a voice that would not be denied an answer. Amber eyes glared at the broken person next to him.
An uneasy silence...
"I want to jump." Indigo eyes stared accusingly up at the other slanted, catlike ones.
"Like hell I'll let you," came the reply, in a tone that sounded strangled.
A small hand curled around the larger one, fingers interlocking. The brunette shivered against the hissing wind, his body pressing against his leader's.
The American man sighed, pushing his spidery, stubborn bangs out of the way of his eyes. It was suppose to be so simple. He was just suppose to jump and let gravity take its course. But now what was he suppose to do?
Carefully, he tried pulling his arm out of the youth's embrace. No cigar... The boy just held on tighter until the older man was practically lifting Nagi up too.
"Crawford-san," growled the boy, obviously annoyed.
Crawford let his arm go limp, his eyes wandering over his loyal teammate. He should have seen this coming... he really should have. So why didn't he? Possibly because he had tricked himself into believing that Nagi would be all right... He would find a foster family or a job and move into his own place. Or Schuldich would take care of him... Maybe even Farfarello... Or...
Nagi was peering over the edge of the building, scowling. His grip tightened, now cutting off Crawford's circulation.
"I'm going to jump now," the American said in a forced voice. "Let go, Nagi."
"Okay, Oracle," murmured the boy, releasing his embrace on the other's arm. But their fingers stayed intertwined. Prodigy stepped farther to the side, now their held hands being the only thing that linked them. Even though it was only was a few feet, it seemed like they had entire universe separating them. Crawford shuddered, realizing how miserable he felt being so far away from the telekinetic and also realizing how horrible it would be after the jump... Death and life were probably much farther apart then a simple, tiny universe.
"Time to let go, Nagi," he tried to say, but somewhere along the way his voice stopped working. He just stared at the emotionless boy, who stared straight back. Inwardly moaning, Crawford swallowed, but there was still a large, suffocating lump in throat. Fighting back a feeling to be weak and cry, he managed to force out, "I'm going to go now."
The boy nodded, but didn't move to unlock his hand or break his gaze. He just stood there looking so darn irritating that Crawford had the passing sensation to slap him repeatedly. But the American made no move to act upon this feeling.
Instead he yanked away his hand, out of Nagi's grip. Glaring, he said in a hoarse, dying voice, "Good-bye."
Crawford stepped off the edge... It was an odd feeling... sort of close to flying... Crawford wasn't sure if that was a true analogy... because he had never flown before, after all... It seemed to go by so fast, and yet... It was all in the slowest motion possible. It was like looking through a window... As if he was watching the entire fall from some other point... Somewhere safe... Somewhere far away... And even though it happened in a half of a second, that moment made all pain, all the misery, all the lies worth it... In all his years of living, he had never been so happy... so content with his life... All during his death...
Nagi had seized Crawford's hand the minute the older man had started to fall. The brunette was dragged down with the other's weight. As the wind brushed his face, Nagi pulled himself into Crawford's chest, embracing the man as they fell.
Watery eyes looked up into amber ones. A small smile flashed on the boy's pale face.
Sighing, Nagi replied, "Hello again."
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"Hey, Kenken, check this out," the lanky playboy called the soccer player over. Youji had just gotten up (it was three in the afternoon) and was reading the newspaper.
"Whatttt?" groaned the brunette, coming over and staring over the other man's shoulders. Youji pointed at an article in the paper.
Ken read only a few lines before exclaiming, "Holy -!"
"What, Ken-kun?" Omi walked over to the two florists and grabbed the news paper. It read:
In another tragic story of suicide has appeared in our city once again. Around 12:30 p.m. to 2:00 p.m., two men committed suicide by jumping off the Tokyo Medical Center's roof. The victims were the late Bradley Crawford, an American entrepreneur who currently was working in the security department, and the late Naoe Nagi, Crawford's apparent ward...
"'...the police speculate that it was a murder gone awry,'" read Omi, out loud.
"'But some say it was a' - OH MY!" Youji began to cough out of shock.
At that very moment, Aya appeared behind them, snatching the newspaper out of Omi's grasp.
"'...some say it was a lovers suicide...'" finished Aya, throwing the paper in the trash. "Enough with the sentimentality. It's over. Oracle and Prodigy are dead. Beserker and Mastermind have probably left. Schwarz is gone. Now...we have to go open the shop."
So Weiss turned their eyes away from the shock of fellow assassins' deaths and went back to work. Because in the end... Schwarz's deaths only really mattered to Schwarz...
The End
................................................ ................................................
A/Ns: So... did you like? See that review button down there? Do not fear the review button! Become one with the review button! Drop a lonely writer such as myself a line!
A/Ns: Okay, this went a little too sad and dark than planned... But please read and review! I want to know what you think.
Warnings: Slightly implied Nagi/Crawford.
.................................... ....................................
Hello Again
.................................... ....................................
A lone silhouette stood against paling full moon. The glowing orb vivified the city, outshining the electrical lights tonight. Even the smutty city with its crimes and gangs and hookers seemed to be holding its breath in silence... The entire world seemed to be waiting... Waiting for a lost somebody to become just another could-happen-to-anybody...
And yet...
The stars and the moon and the heavens seemed to be distracted by other matters... Of course, that was to be expected. Compared to the vast ocean of stars, this planet, this city, this silhouette meant nothing. They were all tiny insects, overlooked, uncared for...
It only made him feel even more unimportant... Standing on the roof of that building, he noticed that downward was a world that was waiting patiently and upward was a vastness that he wasn't even significant enough to be ignored by. It was like looking back and forth from Hell to Heaven.
He grimaced wryly, realizing that Hell was the only one who cared about him. Here he was, standing on the edge, ready to jump off at any given moment, and he only deserved to be noticed by the demons of this life. And possibly the next life.
There's only so much one person can take... Seeing your own death (or would that be deaths, seeing as he avoided so many of those foreseen events?)... Knowing when it would happen, how it would happen... Recognizing the fact that he was only a tool... A tool for Takatori. A tool for Estet. A tool for Rosenkreuz... Possibly a tool for even his own teammates... They didn't need him - they needed his gift. Because that's all that mattered, right? That's all his was, wasn't it? Oracle. Just the Oracle. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just a man defined by his talent...
But it wasn't a talent, was it? It was a mere trick. Like a double-headed coin, something he could cheat with and use to deceive this cynical world. He was just a poker dealer, cheating at his own game.
He knew that Schuldich would be leaving. Oh, yes, he already knew that and had known it for a long time. He knew that Farfarello couldn't be forced to stay either. And Nagi... Nagi had shown weakness in his own emotionless facade when he save that girl Tot. It wasn't long until their deaths... Until their end...
And like hell he'd ever let someone else try to gain comfort from his gift. His sight was his own. He didn't need to be examined or used... He was not a toy thing for the toddlers, who had been bestowed power of nations, to play with.
Sure, he could easily overthrow those fools on their high thrones... But he already know how, when, and why he would be doing it. There was no challenge in it. He was a ambitious worker - a man who always finished what he started. But he had reached his limit... Because that's all his gift was - a limit.
"Well, I suppose I should stop stalling...," whispered the man, pushing his frameless glasses up for one last time. Smirking, he wondered what all those fools would do without his sight. Oh, yes, he was getting a grim satisfaction from this, as only he could.
He slowly toed his way to the inevitable drop.
He took a deep breath and...
... Nearly screamed bloody murder when a small frame attached itself to his arm. But the yell got caught somewhere in his throat, never rising to the surface. The quivering boy stood defiantly next to the man, latched on to the other's arm.
"Hello," the gentle boy said, warming the man's side.
"Nagi, what are you doing?" the velvety thunder rolled. It was a voice that would not be denied an answer. Amber eyes glared at the broken person next to him.
An uneasy silence...
"I want to jump." Indigo eyes stared accusingly up at the other slanted, catlike ones.
"Like hell I'll let you," came the reply, in a tone that sounded strangled.
A small hand curled around the larger one, fingers interlocking. The brunette shivered against the hissing wind, his body pressing against his leader's.
The American man sighed, pushing his spidery, stubborn bangs out of the way of his eyes. It was suppose to be so simple. He was just suppose to jump and let gravity take its course. But now what was he suppose to do?
Carefully, he tried pulling his arm out of the youth's embrace. No cigar... The boy just held on tighter until the older man was practically lifting Nagi up too.
"Crawford-san," growled the boy, obviously annoyed.
Crawford let his arm go limp, his eyes wandering over his loyal teammate. He should have seen this coming... he really should have. So why didn't he? Possibly because he had tricked himself into believing that Nagi would be all right... He would find a foster family or a job and move into his own place. Or Schuldich would take care of him... Maybe even Farfarello... Or...
Nagi was peering over the edge of the building, scowling. His grip tightened, now cutting off Crawford's circulation.
"I'm going to jump now," the American said in a forced voice. "Let go, Nagi."
"Okay, Oracle," murmured the boy, releasing his embrace on the other's arm. But their fingers stayed intertwined. Prodigy stepped farther to the side, now their held hands being the only thing that linked them. Even though it was only was a few feet, it seemed like they had entire universe separating them. Crawford shuddered, realizing how miserable he felt being so far away from the telekinetic and also realizing how horrible it would be after the jump... Death and life were probably much farther apart then a simple, tiny universe.
"Time to let go, Nagi," he tried to say, but somewhere along the way his voice stopped working. He just stared at the emotionless boy, who stared straight back. Inwardly moaning, Crawford swallowed, but there was still a large, suffocating lump in throat. Fighting back a feeling to be weak and cry, he managed to force out, "I'm going to go now."
The boy nodded, but didn't move to unlock his hand or break his gaze. He just stood there looking so darn irritating that Crawford had the passing sensation to slap him repeatedly. But the American made no move to act upon this feeling.
Instead he yanked away his hand, out of Nagi's grip. Glaring, he said in a hoarse, dying voice, "Good-bye."
Crawford stepped off the edge... It was an odd feeling... sort of close to flying... Crawford wasn't sure if that was a true analogy... because he had never flown before, after all... It seemed to go by so fast, and yet... It was all in the slowest motion possible. It was like looking through a window... As if he was watching the entire fall from some other point... Somewhere safe... Somewhere far away... And even though it happened in a half of a second, that moment made all pain, all the misery, all the lies worth it... In all his years of living, he had never been so happy... so content with his life... All during his death...
Nagi had seized Crawford's hand the minute the older man had started to fall. The brunette was dragged down with the other's weight. As the wind brushed his face, Nagi pulled himself into Crawford's chest, embracing the man as they fell.
Watery eyes looked up into amber ones. A small smile flashed on the boy's pale face.
Sighing, Nagi replied, "Hello again."
............................................................ ............................................................
"Hey, Kenken, check this out," the lanky playboy called the soccer player over. Youji had just gotten up (it was three in the afternoon) and was reading the newspaper.
"Whatttt?" groaned the brunette, coming over and staring over the other man's shoulders. Youji pointed at an article in the paper.
Ken read only a few lines before exclaiming, "Holy -!"
"What, Ken-kun?" Omi walked over to the two florists and grabbed the news paper. It read:
In another tragic story of suicide has appeared in our city once again. Around 12:30 p.m. to 2:00 p.m., two men committed suicide by jumping off the Tokyo Medical Center's roof. The victims were the late Bradley Crawford, an American entrepreneur who currently was working in the security department, and the late Naoe Nagi, Crawford's apparent ward...
"'...the police speculate that it was a murder gone awry,'" read Omi, out loud.
"'But some say it was a' - OH MY!" Youji began to cough out of shock.
At that very moment, Aya appeared behind them, snatching the newspaper out of Omi's grasp.
"'...some say it was a lovers suicide...'" finished Aya, throwing the paper in the trash. "Enough with the sentimentality. It's over. Oracle and Prodigy are dead. Beserker and Mastermind have probably left. Schwarz is gone. Now...we have to go open the shop."
So Weiss turned their eyes away from the shock of fellow assassins' deaths and went back to work. Because in the end... Schwarz's deaths only really mattered to Schwarz...
The End
................................................ ................................................
A/Ns: So... did you like? See that review button down there? Do not fear the review button! Become one with the review button! Drop a lonely writer such as myself a line!