Alright then....this is a paper I turned in for English class, and I used
Schuldig and Aya to spice it up a bit. The prompt for the paper was to
create a short narrative that included a restaurant robbery, but that idea
took a back seat to the character's motives as I wrote this. The actual
details contained within this story are not completely accurate, but I had
to make it this way so that it would make sense in the short story
format....so please don't flame me about falsity. Details are not the
showcase of the story. I am a yaoi fan, so if the character interaction is
a bit more intimate than normal, forgive me. It's hard to keep my yaoiness
out of my writing. But anyways....enjoy.
The pale light of the full winter's moon edged the quiet street with silver, reflecting off the sign of a shabby diner that read: Closed. The purple shadows of the darkened streetlights crisscrossed the old road and drowned in the pools of blackness cast by the buildings. Not a sound was to be heard save for the faint chirping of a cricket, carried by a chill wind that whispered through the few, sickly trees. Abruptly, a shadow stirred, stepping silently from the alley beside the diner, the deep scarlet of his longish hair almost black in the night. It shone dully in the semi- darkness, falling into his striking face that was as pale as the moon that glared down upon him. He brushed away a few stray strands with careless ease, resting a gloved hand on his waist as he stood deep in thought. He was rather tall for a Japanese man at 5'9", and had a slim build befitting of a 20 year old. His pretty face and nearly feminine physique would have gotten him on the receiving end of bitter jokes were it not for his icy cold demeanor that demanded respect. Ran Fujimiya, the man who had forsaken his smile, now walked unperturbed down the abandoned sidewalk, searching for something.
This is the place, he thought as he glanced around, I wonder if- His thoughts were interrupted by a loud crashing sound coming from within the diner, causing the cheap glass windows to rattle and shake in their frames. It was followed by a hushed, angry voice, then a fragile silence. Ran arched an eyebrow, and a satisfied smirk spread across his face.
"...He's here..." he whispered in a low voice, the warmth of his breath making little puffs of moisture in the frigid air. He licked his lips, "It's just as the letter said..." Without another word, Ran swept his trenchcoat behind him and strode to the grimy glass door of the diner, calmly swinging it open and peering inside. His entire body was tense. A sudden gust of wind blew the door shut, but before it could give him away, Ran reached behind him with catlike speed and eased it closed with his fingertips just before it collided with the doorjamb. He didn't even turn to look.
Now then, where is he? He thought to himself, but not without a fleeting sense of fear. He couldn't afford to show his unease to an unknown enemy. Nervously clenching and unclenching his hand, Ran listened for the slightest sound of movement. All that reached his ears was his own shallow breathing and the soft click of his boots on the yellowed tile floor as he made his way to the front desk. Darkness swallowed him as he stepped out of the moonlit path; the silvery light could reach no further through the windows. Smells of old grease and cheap perfume abused his nose as they wafted from the small gap in the door leading to the kitchen. In the dimness, he could make out round tables and chairs stacked neatly upon them, the legs reaching up like wooden arms groping for the neck of unsuspecting trespassers. Ran shivered and tore his eyes away, quickening his pace. He reached the desk and glanced down to see a small metal cash box tipped over on its side, gutted of its contents. Only a little coin had managed to escape, lying forgotten in the shadow of the overturned box. Ran hesitantly reached down to pick it up, but just as his fingers brushed the metal, he heard the faint rustle of cloth and a low snicker behind him. He spun around on his heel, eyes wide, frantically searching the silent shadows of the diner. All that met his gaze was the entryway bathed in the eerie light of the moon and the haunting tables with their crowns of chairs. He watched a leaf blow past the dirty windows where outside the wind was picking up. There was not a soul to be seen; but what of the crash and the voice? Ran knew in his gut he was not alone. Remembering to breathe, he licked his lips again and anxiously ran a hand through his hair, which defiantly fell back into his face.
"There's no one there..." he said softly, more to reassure himself than anything else, "then he's got to be-"
"Behind you?" A deep, pleasantly raspy voice asked in a mocking tone. Ran flinched in shock and whirled around only to find himself eye to eye with the smugly smirking visage of a man a few years his senior, his long dark hair cascading down his shoulders and framing an attractive face. In his hand was the coin, and as he leaned on the counter he absently flipped it in the air and caught it, over and over. It was too dim to make out his clothes, but that hardly mattered at the moment.
"Sch-schuldig?!" Ran gasped, and took a step back, "It was you?!" He hadn't expected to meet his old enemy from his exploits in Germany here in Japan, not after the accident. Ran's younger sister Aya had been comatose for two years now because she had been hit and nearly killed by a car, just after escaping from the bomb that killed the rest of the Fujimiya family in Germany. Their father was part of a shady business with obscure motives and dealings, and had apparently angered one of his clients, who retaliated with violence. After that, Ran took his sister back to Japan to get away from the underground organization that had it in for them ever since the "accident." Perhaps it was because the extermination of the Fujimiya house was incomplete, but to Ran, the reason didn't matter. All he cared about was holding on to the last person he held dear and making sure she would be okay; his sister Aya was all he had left to live for. He swore to avenge their loss, especially since he knew who was responsible. The memory was engrained into his mind as if he had witnessed his sister sprawled and bloody on the pavement only yesterday; the person in the driver's seat of the expensive car with deep green eyes that seemed to laugh at his pain, and a sadistic grin to match. Ran knew it in his heart; Schuldig had been the one behind the wheel.
Schuldig's smirk widened, "That's right, Ran," he replied, still flipping the coin, "Did you miss me?" His mirthless eyes burned into the other, unblinking emerald pools of malice.
Ran's expression had melted from surprise to utter loathing; he glared fiercely at the German, fists clenched and body shaking slightly out of pure anger. His voice was low and icily smooth, but he could not hide his hate. Not that he tried to. "You were the one who sent me that letter, weren't you? What in hell could you of all people possibly have to tell me? You're supposed to be back in Germany!" Ran was having a hard time controlling himself; here he was, the man who hurt his sister, so close, so very close that he could taste the sweet bitterness of vengeance already. But he restrained; Schuldig must have had a good reason to come all this way. But what in the world could it be? "Well?!" Ran demanded impatiently, his voice echoing through the diner.
Schuldig merely shrugged and studied his nails, procrastinating simply because he knew it irritated the hell out of Ran. A ghost of a smile graced his lips and his eyes flicked back to his enemy, who looked about ready to snap his neck. Schuldig gave a harsh laugh, "Heh. I only came to tell you that..." he casually dropped the coin, which landed with a loud clink and bounced once before rolling away, but he paid it no mind. Schuldig took a step forward and fastened his intimidating gaze onto Ran's livid features, his face split by a cruel grin. "...You're sister is dead."
Ran's eyes went wide; his heart skipped beat and his shoulders fell, mouth falling slightly open in disbelief. "Wh-what? You...you're lying," he took a step back, shaking his head. "No...no, she's alive. She's alive!"
The German just rolled his eyes and put a hand on his hips, irritated with Ran's denial. He cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue, "Look. You're sister Aya is dead, whether you like it or not." Schuldig's eyes flashed, "I should know...I watched it happen. I've been following you ever since you left Germany, and I was the one who lead Farfarello to the hospital last night to finish off the little brat." Farfarello was a masochistic Irishman who was certifiably insane; his body was lacerated with self-inflicted scars and he had even gouged out his own eye out of pure boredom. The man couldn't feel pain and had an unhealthy fascination with knives; he had a collection of well over 100. He was kept in a cell in an underground facility in Germany and had to be strapped in a straitjacket to keep him from killing himself. Schuldig had managed to gain permission to take him and a few others to help him out on his mission to finish off the last of the Fujimiya family.
Ran was struck dumb by this sudden turn of events. He remained silent, taking it all in. He was a failure. He couldn't even protect the person that meant the most to him, even though he had sworn to see the day when she would finally awake. Now, that day would never come. Ran was alone, truly alone for the first time in his life. He had nothing left. He had no family, no real home to speak of, no friends to mourn his death or celebrate his company, no one to love and be loved by. There wasn't a reason for him to keep on going. Everything that he had ever cared about had inevitably slipped through his fingers like fine-grained sand; the more he tried to hold on to it, the harder it was to hold on to. Ran was now a hollow man. Numbly, he wavered and fell to his knees, his gloved palms on the cold tile floor, eyes devoid of life and staring blankly. He couldn't even cry. As much as he wanted to, as much as he needed to, Ran could not force the tears to come. His broken soul could not find release.
Schuldig gave a derisive snort, disgusted by the drama. He had a job to do. Telling Ran about his sister's death had only been icing on the cake for him to make the victory that much sweeter. "You're pathetic," he hissed, and quietly withdrew a small gun from the inside pocket of his jacket, "But don't worry, Ran. You'll see your sister soon, I promise." He cocked the gun and pointed it directly at Ran, his finger resting lazily on the trigger, his body still as stone.
Ran slowly raised his head and his eyes met Schuldig's, defeated and emotionless. He no longer cared about his own life; his spirit had died with his sister and now there was nothing left of him but this empty shell. There would be no funeral for him; no one would even know that he was gone. Aya...I'm sorry. Big brother couldn't save you this time. I'll see you before long though, and you can yell at me then, alright? Ran's thoughts were skewed and out of context; his mind was too overwhelmed with information to process it clearly. But soon, none of that would matter.
"Tell you're sister I said hi," Schuldig said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. His face broke into a wide smirk as he squeezed the trigger. Flames sparked from the gun and the shot rang out through the diner, followed by a dull thud as Ran's body slumped to the ground. Dark blood flowed in thin rivulets from a round hole between his staring eyes, pooling onto the floor and flowing into the cracks between tiles. Ran Fujimiya could finally see his sister's smile once again as she greeted him in death.
Schuldig slid the gun back into his coat pocket and folded his arms across his chest, looking down at the corpse with satisfaction. "You should've known I'd find you, Fujimiya," he purred into the darkness, "but I never imagined it would be this easy."
The pale light of the full winter's moon edged the quiet street with silver, reflecting off the sign of a shabby diner that read: Closed. The purple shadows of the darkened streetlights crisscrossed the old road and drowned in the pools of blackness cast by the buildings. Not a sound was to be heard save for the faint chirping of a cricket, carried by a chill wind that whispered through the few, sickly trees. Abruptly, a shadow stirred, stepping silently from the alley beside the diner, the deep scarlet of his longish hair almost black in the night. It shone dully in the semi- darkness, falling into his striking face that was as pale as the moon that glared down upon him. He brushed away a few stray strands with careless ease, resting a gloved hand on his waist as he stood deep in thought. He was rather tall for a Japanese man at 5'9", and had a slim build befitting of a 20 year old. His pretty face and nearly feminine physique would have gotten him on the receiving end of bitter jokes were it not for his icy cold demeanor that demanded respect. Ran Fujimiya, the man who had forsaken his smile, now walked unperturbed down the abandoned sidewalk, searching for something.
This is the place, he thought as he glanced around, I wonder if- His thoughts were interrupted by a loud crashing sound coming from within the diner, causing the cheap glass windows to rattle and shake in their frames. It was followed by a hushed, angry voice, then a fragile silence. Ran arched an eyebrow, and a satisfied smirk spread across his face.
"...He's here..." he whispered in a low voice, the warmth of his breath making little puffs of moisture in the frigid air. He licked his lips, "It's just as the letter said..." Without another word, Ran swept his trenchcoat behind him and strode to the grimy glass door of the diner, calmly swinging it open and peering inside. His entire body was tense. A sudden gust of wind blew the door shut, but before it could give him away, Ran reached behind him with catlike speed and eased it closed with his fingertips just before it collided with the doorjamb. He didn't even turn to look.
Now then, where is he? He thought to himself, but not without a fleeting sense of fear. He couldn't afford to show his unease to an unknown enemy. Nervously clenching and unclenching his hand, Ran listened for the slightest sound of movement. All that reached his ears was his own shallow breathing and the soft click of his boots on the yellowed tile floor as he made his way to the front desk. Darkness swallowed him as he stepped out of the moonlit path; the silvery light could reach no further through the windows. Smells of old grease and cheap perfume abused his nose as they wafted from the small gap in the door leading to the kitchen. In the dimness, he could make out round tables and chairs stacked neatly upon them, the legs reaching up like wooden arms groping for the neck of unsuspecting trespassers. Ran shivered and tore his eyes away, quickening his pace. He reached the desk and glanced down to see a small metal cash box tipped over on its side, gutted of its contents. Only a little coin had managed to escape, lying forgotten in the shadow of the overturned box. Ran hesitantly reached down to pick it up, but just as his fingers brushed the metal, he heard the faint rustle of cloth and a low snicker behind him. He spun around on his heel, eyes wide, frantically searching the silent shadows of the diner. All that met his gaze was the entryway bathed in the eerie light of the moon and the haunting tables with their crowns of chairs. He watched a leaf blow past the dirty windows where outside the wind was picking up. There was not a soul to be seen; but what of the crash and the voice? Ran knew in his gut he was not alone. Remembering to breathe, he licked his lips again and anxiously ran a hand through his hair, which defiantly fell back into his face.
"There's no one there..." he said softly, more to reassure himself than anything else, "then he's got to be-"
"Behind you?" A deep, pleasantly raspy voice asked in a mocking tone. Ran flinched in shock and whirled around only to find himself eye to eye with the smugly smirking visage of a man a few years his senior, his long dark hair cascading down his shoulders and framing an attractive face. In his hand was the coin, and as he leaned on the counter he absently flipped it in the air and caught it, over and over. It was too dim to make out his clothes, but that hardly mattered at the moment.
"Sch-schuldig?!" Ran gasped, and took a step back, "It was you?!" He hadn't expected to meet his old enemy from his exploits in Germany here in Japan, not after the accident. Ran's younger sister Aya had been comatose for two years now because she had been hit and nearly killed by a car, just after escaping from the bomb that killed the rest of the Fujimiya family in Germany. Their father was part of a shady business with obscure motives and dealings, and had apparently angered one of his clients, who retaliated with violence. After that, Ran took his sister back to Japan to get away from the underground organization that had it in for them ever since the "accident." Perhaps it was because the extermination of the Fujimiya house was incomplete, but to Ran, the reason didn't matter. All he cared about was holding on to the last person he held dear and making sure she would be okay; his sister Aya was all he had left to live for. He swore to avenge their loss, especially since he knew who was responsible. The memory was engrained into his mind as if he had witnessed his sister sprawled and bloody on the pavement only yesterday; the person in the driver's seat of the expensive car with deep green eyes that seemed to laugh at his pain, and a sadistic grin to match. Ran knew it in his heart; Schuldig had been the one behind the wheel.
Schuldig's smirk widened, "That's right, Ran," he replied, still flipping the coin, "Did you miss me?" His mirthless eyes burned into the other, unblinking emerald pools of malice.
Ran's expression had melted from surprise to utter loathing; he glared fiercely at the German, fists clenched and body shaking slightly out of pure anger. His voice was low and icily smooth, but he could not hide his hate. Not that he tried to. "You were the one who sent me that letter, weren't you? What in hell could you of all people possibly have to tell me? You're supposed to be back in Germany!" Ran was having a hard time controlling himself; here he was, the man who hurt his sister, so close, so very close that he could taste the sweet bitterness of vengeance already. But he restrained; Schuldig must have had a good reason to come all this way. But what in the world could it be? "Well?!" Ran demanded impatiently, his voice echoing through the diner.
Schuldig merely shrugged and studied his nails, procrastinating simply because he knew it irritated the hell out of Ran. A ghost of a smile graced his lips and his eyes flicked back to his enemy, who looked about ready to snap his neck. Schuldig gave a harsh laugh, "Heh. I only came to tell you that..." he casually dropped the coin, which landed with a loud clink and bounced once before rolling away, but he paid it no mind. Schuldig took a step forward and fastened his intimidating gaze onto Ran's livid features, his face split by a cruel grin. "...You're sister is dead."
Ran's eyes went wide; his heart skipped beat and his shoulders fell, mouth falling slightly open in disbelief. "Wh-what? You...you're lying," he took a step back, shaking his head. "No...no, she's alive. She's alive!"
The German just rolled his eyes and put a hand on his hips, irritated with Ran's denial. He cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue, "Look. You're sister Aya is dead, whether you like it or not." Schuldig's eyes flashed, "I should know...I watched it happen. I've been following you ever since you left Germany, and I was the one who lead Farfarello to the hospital last night to finish off the little brat." Farfarello was a masochistic Irishman who was certifiably insane; his body was lacerated with self-inflicted scars and he had even gouged out his own eye out of pure boredom. The man couldn't feel pain and had an unhealthy fascination with knives; he had a collection of well over 100. He was kept in a cell in an underground facility in Germany and had to be strapped in a straitjacket to keep him from killing himself. Schuldig had managed to gain permission to take him and a few others to help him out on his mission to finish off the last of the Fujimiya family.
Ran was struck dumb by this sudden turn of events. He remained silent, taking it all in. He was a failure. He couldn't even protect the person that meant the most to him, even though he had sworn to see the day when she would finally awake. Now, that day would never come. Ran was alone, truly alone for the first time in his life. He had nothing left. He had no family, no real home to speak of, no friends to mourn his death or celebrate his company, no one to love and be loved by. There wasn't a reason for him to keep on going. Everything that he had ever cared about had inevitably slipped through his fingers like fine-grained sand; the more he tried to hold on to it, the harder it was to hold on to. Ran was now a hollow man. Numbly, he wavered and fell to his knees, his gloved palms on the cold tile floor, eyes devoid of life and staring blankly. He couldn't even cry. As much as he wanted to, as much as he needed to, Ran could not force the tears to come. His broken soul could not find release.
Schuldig gave a derisive snort, disgusted by the drama. He had a job to do. Telling Ran about his sister's death had only been icing on the cake for him to make the victory that much sweeter. "You're pathetic," he hissed, and quietly withdrew a small gun from the inside pocket of his jacket, "But don't worry, Ran. You'll see your sister soon, I promise." He cocked the gun and pointed it directly at Ran, his finger resting lazily on the trigger, his body still as stone.
Ran slowly raised his head and his eyes met Schuldig's, defeated and emotionless. He no longer cared about his own life; his spirit had died with his sister and now there was nothing left of him but this empty shell. There would be no funeral for him; no one would even know that he was gone. Aya...I'm sorry. Big brother couldn't save you this time. I'll see you before long though, and you can yell at me then, alright? Ran's thoughts were skewed and out of context; his mind was too overwhelmed with information to process it clearly. But soon, none of that would matter.
"Tell you're sister I said hi," Schuldig said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. His face broke into a wide smirk as he squeezed the trigger. Flames sparked from the gun and the shot rang out through the diner, followed by a dull thud as Ran's body slumped to the ground. Dark blood flowed in thin rivulets from a round hole between his staring eyes, pooling onto the floor and flowing into the cracks between tiles. Ran Fujimiya could finally see his sister's smile once again as she greeted him in death.
Schuldig slid the gun back into his coat pocket and folded his arms across his chest, looking down at the corpse with satisfaction. "You should've known I'd find you, Fujimiya," he purred into the darkness, "but I never imagined it would be this easy."
