Bad Kitten: Chapter One
By. Bento Box
04/02/03
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"Nagi, get up. You're going to be late."
The cold voice penetrated his blissfully deep sleep. It made him drag his eyelids upwards and the comfortable darkness receded to the unwelcome sight that was Crawford.
Nagi blinked at the older man blearily for several seconds, and said nothing in response to the command..
Crawford stood in the doorway a little while longer before he turned and went back into the kitchen where he sat down in one of the empty chairs at the small kitchen table. He didn't touch the slowly cooling mug of coffee, and barely glanced at the neatly spread newspaper in his hands.
Back in Nagi's room, the teen sighed and buried his face into his pillow.
With an air of one being sentenced to his death, he managed to prop himself up with one arm and ran cold fingers over his face.
His breath was a bitter warmth on his icy skin and he let his hand fall back onto the pillow. He sat there and stared at the white surface, stroked it with his fingers and wished he could sleep forever. Never having to face the dawn. Never having to live during the night the way he did with so much blood and swirling darkness.
Too much melodrama in the morning is not good.
A small frown twisted his lips, and he pushed his body into a sitting position on the bed. He stared down at his hands, and was suddenly rivted to the sight of his own pale, slender fingers that held so little heat.
Some hands brought warmth and security. Those kinds of hands belonged to a caring mother as she wiped away the tears of her child, who was suffering from a scratch on his knee.
Some hands brought food and wealth to table. Those kinds of hands belonged to a father who loved his family deeply.
Some hands brought death and pain. Those hands belonged to the tainted ones, the ones crying softly for their stolen innocence.
He shook himself abruptly, a self-depracting sneer on his narrow face. He was disgusted with himself for such poetically dark thoughts.
The bed creaked when he finally stood. Another day... another long morning that would melt into the afternoon. Then night would trickle and fall into the sky, and drink away the sun.
His face felt cold and pinched as a carefully blank and dettached expression slid into place.
Just another day.
—
Nagi barely registred it when Fusé-sensei dismissed the class. He was on auto-pilot, mechanically putting away his books and papers. He was still unnerved by the unease that had suddenly descended upon him that morning as he had walked along the block to school.
He couldn't decipher the meaning behind the ill-feeling in his stomach, the unwanted tremble at the base of his spine.
A group of other students walked past him as he exited down into the hallway. Their laughter distracted him for a moment, and he realized why when a couple of the girls threw not so subtle looks back at him. Something in their expressions, the way they turned back to their friends and laughed told Nagi that the looks were not of a flirtatious nature.
He felt the cold expression on his face harden further, and the air around him crackled slightly, silently as he contemplated unleashing a small little 'nudge' that would cause at least two, if not all, of the girls to stumble and fall clumsily to the ground.
But there was hardly any satisfaction from such a childish retalliation and his let his powers slip quietly into dormancy once more.
For the moment, Nagi's earlier unease was completely forgotten.
He continued to walk past the classroom doors, down the steps, and out into the sunny afternoon.
He started to make his way down the street when the discontentment settled in shiverly little whispers down his neck and back.
He hunched into himself unconsciously as the churning discomfort in his stomach spread widely into an endless pit. His eyes scanned the area covertly, not betraying his unease with any suspicious or out of place movements.
He fought the urge to look over his shoulder, where his eyes couldn't scan, when there was nothing to be found out of place to the front or either side of him.
He knew now at least, that the cause of his wariness was coming from behind him. To make any sudden moves out of the ordinary would alert whatever it was watching, or trailing, him that he was now aware of the unwanted presence.
His eyes narrowed as he continued to walk at his usual calm, even paces. Think, think, he had to think fast. How was he going to find out who was tailing him? For that was what it had to be, his instincts and training screamed at him that he was indeed being followed.
He briefly toyed with the idea of contacting Schuldig when he instantly cut that idea off.
If it was nothing, the German would soon have yet another of Nagi's 'quirks' to taunt him with. As good as Nagi was at ignoring and blocking the man and his childish behavior, he didn't want the added annoyance, especially if it really was nothing like paranoia caused by stress.
And if his unease proved to be true, and the presence was truly something to be worried about, he should be able to hold off well enough on his own for a bit before calling to Schuldig to bring in reinforcements. If he needed Schuldig and the others in the first place.
Plan of action resolved, Nagi smoothly walked down the alternate direction from that he usually took to get to the subways. This new direction should, if his memory served to be flawless as it usually was, take him down an empty street would he would be able to confront the presence out of the public eye easily enough.
Despite the confidence he felt in being able to handle whatever this was, Nagi was still very wary. He was being tailed. He had no idea by who, and he had no way of knowing if the person--persons--who followed him were aware of his connection to Schwarz or not.
It could even something as harmless as the group of girls who had passed him earlier that day, wanting to taunt and tease him face-to-face.
But no, that couldn't be it. They hadn't instilled the unease of which he had felt that morning, and now felt again with alarming urgency.
It also couldn't be one of the many larger boys, bullies who delighted in making Nagi as their victim. Crawford's orders were to never, under any circumstances, bring attention to his powers in the public eye. Hence the various times he would get to the apartment, covered in bruises, bleeding from cuts and raw wounds that would garner looks from alarmed civilians and anxious queries, but only a disinterested look, wide sneer or bloodlust-filled gaze from his fellow Schwarz members.
The sudden, instinctive tensing of his entire body brought Nagi back from his thoughts and he snarled at himself mentally for such trivial distractions.
He eased to a stop, invisible hackles raised as he gathered his power about him, tightly coiled and eager to be unleashed onto its prey.
There was no release, however, of his powers when the world suddenly dropped from under his feet. The concentrated energy around his body melted away as he collapsed, unconscious, to the hard, paved ground.