A Small Town in America
By Nix Winter
Disclaimers:
I don't own Weiss Kruez, Gravitation, or the Bible, but I highly encourage you to read all three.
Warnings: I have a very angry Aya muse who is demanding page time today.... Schuldig is in massive trouble.
Notes: This is related to my Twilight Youji story, to Trust, and to Langer Schlaf.
Chapter four
"What are you doing?" Aya asked, watching the boy. Anger had always been able to get around the logic functions of Aya's brain. Ran. "What in living Hell are you doing?"
Shuichi leaned over a notebook which was laying open on Dr. Kim's main examination table. There was a bottle of pop, a bag of chips, and pink candle. "I'm preparing a summons."
"A summons? I don't know that ceremonial magic is your strong suit," Aya snapped. "Where did you get that book? Steal it from a high school girl who thinks she's a witch."
Pointing with the book, one finger holding his place, Shuichi snapped back, "Eiri was just like you till he got therapy! He confessed his real name and learned to trust and then he was much nicer! And we had less speeding tickets. I bet Aya's not even your real name!"
"What would you know? What would a guy with pink hair know about real anything?" Aya felt slightly bad about that comment. It had been ritual magic, sort of, that had woken his sister, so maybe he was just holding onto hope that it would wake Youji too. "Tell me again, how you got here?"
Shuichi sighed. It had been 43 days, 15 hours, and 36 minutes since he'd failed to accept the hand of the angel quick enough and Touma had banished him. Being banished was entirely worse than being pushed in front of a car too. "I told you. Touma is working for the bad guys and just as I was about to agree to work for the good guys, he banished me. He wanted Eiri for himself, I think."
Unaware and unimpressed by the soap opera life of rock stars, especially ones with pink hair, Aya summarized, "The agent of the devil sent you here before you could become a saint? Isn't the war between Heaven and Hell a little high for pop singers got involved in?"
"You need therapy," Shuichi said, turned the page, squinted at the fine print. He should have gotten his eyes checked when Eiri told him too. "It's not just Heaven and Hell. Besides those are very western ideas anyway. There's karma and dharma too. There's more ways to say it. But it got it's real start with the monotheistic ideas that evolved into the Judeo- Christian philosophy. That really made the fiber of nature split into light and dark, cuz people are seeing it that way. Judas is just trying to fix it."
"Did he tell you those words. They seem awfully big for you," Aya said, considering snatching the book out of this guy's hands. "Maybe you've just got a Christ complex?"
"I am trying to help you too," Shuichi said, emotion shimmering in his eyes. "I want to go home! Don't you want your Youji back? I bet you love him as much as the one I knew did."
Aya shrugged, looking away. Maybe that was part of why the singer had been popular, that emotions flowed so easily from him. Aya wasn't like that. Emotions didn't flow. Blood flowed and he really wanted to kill something. The happy life he'd settled into, teaching, taking care of Youji, that was fading away now, to leave a rage surfacing.
He wasn't completely sure why he believed the singer, that Schuldig was holding Youji's spirit hostage, but he did. "I'm getting my katana. Your soda pop and chips magic better work when I get back, or I may chose to banish you in an entirely different fashion!"
"I hope you die and get flame for hair!" Shuichi yelled at Aya's retreating back, referring to the Aya that he knew, in a different world (see footnote). "I'm gonna summon Schuldig for you! You'll see!"
Aya didn't really believe him, not in that moment. He was just too angry to care if he believed or not. "You better!"
His sword was with his other things, in a cabinet in the room Youji slept in. As soon as he stepped inside, he paused, felt the anger bleed away. Tenderness and longing overwhelmed him, wrapped around him in a way that he could not begin to describe, no matter how much poetry and literature he'd read. It had been long enough for Youji on his side, so Aya let getting his sword wait a moment, so that he could reposition the man who was his lover, his best friend, the hinge on which his world turned.
"Youji," Aya whispered, as he skillfully repositioned him onto his back, tucked the pillows carefully to make sure there were not wrinkles in the fabric that could cause indentations on Youji's skin. "You know I'd do anything to get you back, to make sure that you're okay. You know that, right?"
Youji didn't respond, and Aya picked up the lip balm from the table and smoothed it over his lips. What was the point of fighting? Of wars between Heaven and Hell and insane people battering other people? Aya had the feeling that if he helped this singer, even if he killed Schuldig, which he would be very happy to do if the man were holding Youji, that it would just get them involved in another group that was out to change the world by force. Heaven or Hell, Weiss or Schwartz, it was all just really the same. Aya picked up Youji's hand, rubbing the fingers to keep the circulation going. "Come on, Youji. Can you wake up just for a moment? Just to tell me what you think?"
"It's going to work, you know," said another voice, deep and accented like an Arabian night's story voice. "Shuichi's going to call Schuldig."
Aya wondered, seriously wondered, if he were the one in the bed, and Youji were the one holding his hand, wondered if this were all a dream. "What part of my unconscious conjures up singers I can't stand and Sinbad the Sailor?"
The dark haired man across the bed from Aya arched an eyebrow. "I would think the part of you that thinks magic isn't real, the part that has forgotten the dreams of childhood and wants things to be safe and quiet. The part of you that could be content reading novels to a lover that doesn't wake."
"Who the hell are you?" Aya put Youji's hand down.
The man held out his hand. "I go by Jazz these days. Jazz of Purgatory."
"How did you get in here?" Aya was reconsidering how urgently he wanted to get that katana.
"Um. I downloaded myself. I like that term. Computer terms just explain things so much better than magic terms used to. So let me see if I can explain what's happening in your world."
Aya arched an eyebrow.
"Once upon a time there was One God Soul, with many voices. The spirit of God sang to all humans and humans back to him. Like a flower with many bees. The flower of God was a whole field full of flowers and the spiritual needs of humanity and nature were meet. Then someone came up with the bright idea that one flower was better than other flowers. Usually this kind of thing didn't last long. But over time this kind of thing picked up momentum, until there were really only two flowers left. A light happy, perfect flower, un-aging and unbending, untouchable and ideal. And a vile poisonous, painful flower. These two flowers took over the momentum and drove other flowers out. Then God had only these two voices."
"You're saying God has something to do with Hell? We don't believe in Hell in Japan."
"That's not true, and you know it. The ideas of only one right and only one wrong aren't as solid there, but they are there."
"What has any of this got to do with me?" Aya asked.
"I thought you might like to get in on a little rebellion I've been nurturing for a while. We're going to shatter the black and white flowers back into colors. Join me. The perks are good and I'll introduce you to Eiri's therapist."
"If I join you, if I'm not insane, will Youji wake, and that damn singer be sent back where he belongs?"
"I have actually come to get that singer. Youji's spirit will be freed from it's current prison and I will introduce you to Clie, who will show you how to make a journey to find Youji and bring him back to this body. And you get to live forever. What could be better than that?"
"Aya! Aahhhhhh!" Shuichi screamed. The door to Youji's room shook as something ran into it. "Aya!"
"Give me your hand," Jazz commanded and Aya, who was looking over his shoulder at the door, did so. A tingle splashed over his hand, up his arm and he jerked, trying to pull his hand back, but it was held fast. A rainbow colored infinity symbol, with light circulating slowly through the figure eight, was etching itself into his skin. Like a living tattoo it shimmered and glowed. "Bring me Shuichi Na Wizard," Jazz commanded as he released Aya's hand.
Not even considering how he did it, Aya found his katana in his hand. "Shini!" he yelled, throwing himself against the door, shoving it open against the weight holding it.
Living flames danced over his blade in the dark room beyond. Even with the lights out and the ethereal flames on his sword, Aya could sense where his enemy was. He knew that heart beat, that nasty pressure against his mind. "Schuldig!"
"Hai, kitty kitty. I hear kitties can see in the dark. Is that so?"
"I hear dogs die well in the dark," Aya hissed, circling around the table and the panting singer hiding in a safe circle of salted chips and blessed pop. "Isn't Schuldig supposed to be trapped in the magic circle, Shuichi?"
"I did it wrong!" the singer wailed.
"Aya, Baby," a voice very like Youji's called.
Aya spun, looking for clues, looking for any hint in the dark for where Youji might be. "Youji!"
The heel of Schuldig's hand hit the back of Aya's neck hard, sending the swordsman to the ground. Aya rolled though coming back up in a dazed crouch. "I'm collecting kitty souls, keeping them right here," Schuldig purred, slapping his chest.
Aya rose, thrust and sent the sword right through Schuldig's hand, right into the heart he'd been patting boastfully. Both hands on the katana, Aya jerked it free, then spun slicing into neck and spine, severing very surprised thoughts from a dying body.
For the first time in so long, the room suddenly smelled of cigarette smoke and Aya felt Youji's fingers on his ear, then his through. A very ghostly voice whispered, "Thank you, Aya. I love you."
The lights flicked back on, fritzing temperamentally. There was no body, no blood, no Youji. Aya grabbed the sleeve of the singer and dragged him back towards Youji's room. The singer screamed and struggled to get to his feet, but they were in Youji's room before that was accomplished.
Jazz sat in Aya's chair, reading Aya's book, and Youji lay where he had been, not so much as a hair moved. "Youji! Youji!" Aya dropped the sword and it never hit the floor. "Youji! Wake up you lazy bastard!"
"You bruised me!" Shuichi complained.
Youji didn't wake, didn't move and Aya turned on Jazz. "Where is he?"
"I said I would take you to Clie and she would help you start the journey to search for him. I didn't say he'd wake. Not even I can kill me, so don't even think about trying."
"Asshole!" Aya wished for his katana again, but this time it didn't come.
"Shall we go then? Eiri is waiting impatiently for you," Jazz said to Shuichi.
"We can go home? I can go home! Yes!" Pink hair really caught neon glow as he threw his arms over his head! "Yes! I can go home!"
Purgatory was never going to be the same.
Footnote: This is related to the Twilight Youji story....
Additional notes: I meant for this to be a different kind of story, when I started it. Then it turned into this other kind of story. Not sure if it's worth reading or not, but I'm enjoying writing it.
By Nix Winter
Disclaimers:
I don't own Weiss Kruez, Gravitation, or the Bible, but I highly encourage you to read all three.
Warnings: I have a very angry Aya muse who is demanding page time today.... Schuldig is in massive trouble.
Notes: This is related to my Twilight Youji story, to Trust, and to Langer Schlaf.
Chapter four
"What are you doing?" Aya asked, watching the boy. Anger had always been able to get around the logic functions of Aya's brain. Ran. "What in living Hell are you doing?"
Shuichi leaned over a notebook which was laying open on Dr. Kim's main examination table. There was a bottle of pop, a bag of chips, and pink candle. "I'm preparing a summons."
"A summons? I don't know that ceremonial magic is your strong suit," Aya snapped. "Where did you get that book? Steal it from a high school girl who thinks she's a witch."
Pointing with the book, one finger holding his place, Shuichi snapped back, "Eiri was just like you till he got therapy! He confessed his real name and learned to trust and then he was much nicer! And we had less speeding tickets. I bet Aya's not even your real name!"
"What would you know? What would a guy with pink hair know about real anything?" Aya felt slightly bad about that comment. It had been ritual magic, sort of, that had woken his sister, so maybe he was just holding onto hope that it would wake Youji too. "Tell me again, how you got here?"
Shuichi sighed. It had been 43 days, 15 hours, and 36 minutes since he'd failed to accept the hand of the angel quick enough and Touma had banished him. Being banished was entirely worse than being pushed in front of a car too. "I told you. Touma is working for the bad guys and just as I was about to agree to work for the good guys, he banished me. He wanted Eiri for himself, I think."
Unaware and unimpressed by the soap opera life of rock stars, especially ones with pink hair, Aya summarized, "The agent of the devil sent you here before you could become a saint? Isn't the war between Heaven and Hell a little high for pop singers got involved in?"
"You need therapy," Shuichi said, turned the page, squinted at the fine print. He should have gotten his eyes checked when Eiri told him too. "It's not just Heaven and Hell. Besides those are very western ideas anyway. There's karma and dharma too. There's more ways to say it. But it got it's real start with the monotheistic ideas that evolved into the Judeo- Christian philosophy. That really made the fiber of nature split into light and dark, cuz people are seeing it that way. Judas is just trying to fix it."
"Did he tell you those words. They seem awfully big for you," Aya said, considering snatching the book out of this guy's hands. "Maybe you've just got a Christ complex?"
"I am trying to help you too," Shuichi said, emotion shimmering in his eyes. "I want to go home! Don't you want your Youji back? I bet you love him as much as the one I knew did."
Aya shrugged, looking away. Maybe that was part of why the singer had been popular, that emotions flowed so easily from him. Aya wasn't like that. Emotions didn't flow. Blood flowed and he really wanted to kill something. The happy life he'd settled into, teaching, taking care of Youji, that was fading away now, to leave a rage surfacing.
He wasn't completely sure why he believed the singer, that Schuldig was holding Youji's spirit hostage, but he did. "I'm getting my katana. Your soda pop and chips magic better work when I get back, or I may chose to banish you in an entirely different fashion!"
"I hope you die and get flame for hair!" Shuichi yelled at Aya's retreating back, referring to the Aya that he knew, in a different world (see footnote). "I'm gonna summon Schuldig for you! You'll see!"
Aya didn't really believe him, not in that moment. He was just too angry to care if he believed or not. "You better!"
His sword was with his other things, in a cabinet in the room Youji slept in. As soon as he stepped inside, he paused, felt the anger bleed away. Tenderness and longing overwhelmed him, wrapped around him in a way that he could not begin to describe, no matter how much poetry and literature he'd read. It had been long enough for Youji on his side, so Aya let getting his sword wait a moment, so that he could reposition the man who was his lover, his best friend, the hinge on which his world turned.
"Youji," Aya whispered, as he skillfully repositioned him onto his back, tucked the pillows carefully to make sure there were not wrinkles in the fabric that could cause indentations on Youji's skin. "You know I'd do anything to get you back, to make sure that you're okay. You know that, right?"
Youji didn't respond, and Aya picked up the lip balm from the table and smoothed it over his lips. What was the point of fighting? Of wars between Heaven and Hell and insane people battering other people? Aya had the feeling that if he helped this singer, even if he killed Schuldig, which he would be very happy to do if the man were holding Youji, that it would just get them involved in another group that was out to change the world by force. Heaven or Hell, Weiss or Schwartz, it was all just really the same. Aya picked up Youji's hand, rubbing the fingers to keep the circulation going. "Come on, Youji. Can you wake up just for a moment? Just to tell me what you think?"
"It's going to work, you know," said another voice, deep and accented like an Arabian night's story voice. "Shuichi's going to call Schuldig."
Aya wondered, seriously wondered, if he were the one in the bed, and Youji were the one holding his hand, wondered if this were all a dream. "What part of my unconscious conjures up singers I can't stand and Sinbad the Sailor?"
The dark haired man across the bed from Aya arched an eyebrow. "I would think the part of you that thinks magic isn't real, the part that has forgotten the dreams of childhood and wants things to be safe and quiet. The part of you that could be content reading novels to a lover that doesn't wake."
"Who the hell are you?" Aya put Youji's hand down.
The man held out his hand. "I go by Jazz these days. Jazz of Purgatory."
"How did you get in here?" Aya was reconsidering how urgently he wanted to get that katana.
"Um. I downloaded myself. I like that term. Computer terms just explain things so much better than magic terms used to. So let me see if I can explain what's happening in your world."
Aya arched an eyebrow.
"Once upon a time there was One God Soul, with many voices. The spirit of God sang to all humans and humans back to him. Like a flower with many bees. The flower of God was a whole field full of flowers and the spiritual needs of humanity and nature were meet. Then someone came up with the bright idea that one flower was better than other flowers. Usually this kind of thing didn't last long. But over time this kind of thing picked up momentum, until there were really only two flowers left. A light happy, perfect flower, un-aging and unbending, untouchable and ideal. And a vile poisonous, painful flower. These two flowers took over the momentum and drove other flowers out. Then God had only these two voices."
"You're saying God has something to do with Hell? We don't believe in Hell in Japan."
"That's not true, and you know it. The ideas of only one right and only one wrong aren't as solid there, but they are there."
"What has any of this got to do with me?" Aya asked.
"I thought you might like to get in on a little rebellion I've been nurturing for a while. We're going to shatter the black and white flowers back into colors. Join me. The perks are good and I'll introduce you to Eiri's therapist."
"If I join you, if I'm not insane, will Youji wake, and that damn singer be sent back where he belongs?"
"I have actually come to get that singer. Youji's spirit will be freed from it's current prison and I will introduce you to Clie, who will show you how to make a journey to find Youji and bring him back to this body. And you get to live forever. What could be better than that?"
"Aya! Aahhhhhh!" Shuichi screamed. The door to Youji's room shook as something ran into it. "Aya!"
"Give me your hand," Jazz commanded and Aya, who was looking over his shoulder at the door, did so. A tingle splashed over his hand, up his arm and he jerked, trying to pull his hand back, but it was held fast. A rainbow colored infinity symbol, with light circulating slowly through the figure eight, was etching itself into his skin. Like a living tattoo it shimmered and glowed. "Bring me Shuichi Na Wizard," Jazz commanded as he released Aya's hand.
Not even considering how he did it, Aya found his katana in his hand. "Shini!" he yelled, throwing himself against the door, shoving it open against the weight holding it.
Living flames danced over his blade in the dark room beyond. Even with the lights out and the ethereal flames on his sword, Aya could sense where his enemy was. He knew that heart beat, that nasty pressure against his mind. "Schuldig!"
"Hai, kitty kitty. I hear kitties can see in the dark. Is that so?"
"I hear dogs die well in the dark," Aya hissed, circling around the table and the panting singer hiding in a safe circle of salted chips and blessed pop. "Isn't Schuldig supposed to be trapped in the magic circle, Shuichi?"
"I did it wrong!" the singer wailed.
"Aya, Baby," a voice very like Youji's called.
Aya spun, looking for clues, looking for any hint in the dark for where Youji might be. "Youji!"
The heel of Schuldig's hand hit the back of Aya's neck hard, sending the swordsman to the ground. Aya rolled though coming back up in a dazed crouch. "I'm collecting kitty souls, keeping them right here," Schuldig purred, slapping his chest.
Aya rose, thrust and sent the sword right through Schuldig's hand, right into the heart he'd been patting boastfully. Both hands on the katana, Aya jerked it free, then spun slicing into neck and spine, severing very surprised thoughts from a dying body.
For the first time in so long, the room suddenly smelled of cigarette smoke and Aya felt Youji's fingers on his ear, then his through. A very ghostly voice whispered, "Thank you, Aya. I love you."
The lights flicked back on, fritzing temperamentally. There was no body, no blood, no Youji. Aya grabbed the sleeve of the singer and dragged him back towards Youji's room. The singer screamed and struggled to get to his feet, but they were in Youji's room before that was accomplished.
Jazz sat in Aya's chair, reading Aya's book, and Youji lay where he had been, not so much as a hair moved. "Youji! Youji!" Aya dropped the sword and it never hit the floor. "Youji! Wake up you lazy bastard!"
"You bruised me!" Shuichi complained.
Youji didn't wake, didn't move and Aya turned on Jazz. "Where is he?"
"I said I would take you to Clie and she would help you start the journey to search for him. I didn't say he'd wake. Not even I can kill me, so don't even think about trying."
"Asshole!" Aya wished for his katana again, but this time it didn't come.
"Shall we go then? Eiri is waiting impatiently for you," Jazz said to Shuichi.
"We can go home? I can go home! Yes!" Pink hair really caught neon glow as he threw his arms over his head! "Yes! I can go home!"
Purgatory was never going to be the same.
Footnote: This is related to the Twilight Youji story....
Additional notes: I meant for this to be a different kind of story, when I started it. Then it turned into this other kind of story. Not sure if it's worth reading or not, but I'm enjoying writing it.
