Hello! First Weiss Kreuz fic here. I usually do Yu-Gi-Oh fics and some
Gravitation, but I've had a fetish for Weiss Kreuz fics, so here's a one-
shot.
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz or its characters
Warning: Yaoi between Omi and Schildich, sorry if you don't like the couple. A bit AU-ish.
Schildich muses about a certain person he loves. Schildich POV.
[][][]
He like music
No...he doesn't like it, he loves it
He loves music
He doesn't care what style or genre, he loves it
He could be blasting "Sleepless Beauty" from Gravitation that he likes and then suddenly he'll be listening Mozart's Symphony No.25.
He sings to it, dances to it, laughs to it, and sometimes, sometimes he cries to it.
You should hear him play. It's so beautiful. So full of life, so full of him. You can hear his very soul in his music. His room had so many things crammed in, if you peeked in you'd almost be insured never to come back out. Of course, I'm more of a voluntary victim.
I got him to move everything out, to make more room for him. We moved all his instruments, all of it to a new room here. It's now dubbed "Kitten's Music Room" and only the privileged few are allowed in. Mainly me.
I like it best when he plays the piano. His small fingers, so delicate, so deadly, they flow down the keys, fluid and full of grace. It's amazing how those same fingers have deadly accuracy when it comes to darts. He sounds like he had been trained as classic pianist, yet sometimes he'll slip into jazz where all rules change and you'll see a new kitten. And other days he'll be at his keyboard, making music that he could probably sell to a record company.
It's so different to see those delicate fingers producing music fit for heaven and then remember the days when they were Weiss and we were Schwarz and remember those same fingers holding those poisonous darts, ready to kill, ready to end life on order. But that was then, this is now.
He reminds me of Nagi. Nagi likes to draw. He likes to sit somewhere and draw for hours and hours. He'll draw and paint and etch and watercolor and charcoal. They'll be pictures everywhere around the house papers fluttering like doves. Pictures of Brad or Farf or me or Kitten or even the rest of Weiss. He said they have beautiful faces to draw. Or sometimes he'll draw anything that lies around the house. You know Farf's knives or Brad's newspapers or Kitten's instruments.
They're so alike. They even look alike. Cherubic faces, large eyes, hair that falls over their eyes that denotes them cute from all the girls and boys. They're both artistically gifted, are dangerous as hell, and love their computers. [I sometimes seriously doubt his love to me] But I love them both in entirely different ways. Nagi's like my little brother, someone to take care of, Kitten's someone I love, someone to be with.
Even when they are alike, they are different. Nagi has the face of a sixteen year old, but his mind tells you something else. It's like he's too old for his age. He's so much more...jaded...by our business. It's like what we do leave a deeper impression in his mind. Maybe it's just his powers, but sometimes he knows more than he should about life. Sometimes he just downright scares the shit out of me, but that's Nagi.
It's his eyes that make him seem so much younger, so much more innocent than any of us really are. His eyes are...amazing. So brilliantly blue. Blue. It's the only way to describe them. Blue. Blue as in May-spring-sky-blue. Blue as in the-color-the- ocean-should-be blue. I call them blueberry eyes. Farf calls them angel eyes...that's never a good sign.
You can tell everything about him in those blue, blue eyes of his [and of course a dab into his mind]. You can tell he's caring, hard-working [to the point of exhaustion], he forgives but doesn't forget, most of all you can tell he's seen more than any child should have, just like Nagi. Even in their differences they are somewhat alike.
There'll be nights when he wakes up screaming. Screaming about something he had done or seen, screaming about being a murderer, about being covered in blood. And all I can do is stroke his hair and kiss his forehead and wipe away those tears, because he is a murderer...but so am I.
Then there'll be those night when he can't sleep, afraid to sleep, so he stays up and stares at the wall or sometimes he'll be on his laptop, talking to Nagi online because they both can't sleep. I'll wake up and see those blue, blue eyes staring off onto the distance or the computer screen, blue, blue eyes that glow in the dark and seem even bigger than they really are. Shining, sparkling in the dark.
Then there are things that his eyes can't tell, things that only certain special people are privy to. People he trusts. Things like he forgave Farf, but never forgot Oka. Kinda of stings sometimes, I'll admit, when he wakes up screaming Oka's name, but that's the least I deserve. After all I am the one that caused her death.
I also know he hates celery. So whenever Brad cooks, he likes things healthy, and healthy includes celery. I also know that his deepest and darkest fear is that he'll be left alone one day, abandoned like he was as a child. Hell, he's petrified that one day he's going to wake up and see that no one is here anymore and that we all abandoned him. He wouldn't care if we left him locked up in a cell with Farf when he's in one of those "moods" as long as he wasn't alone. He's afraid that he's going to have to live alone one day and some nights he'll wake up screaming, not Oka's name, but screaming and crying, clinging to me to never leave him, to always be there. Then I'll smile and kiss his forehead and promise that I never will.
He's a cheerful person. He very much is. He refuses to quit at any point, even if that obstacle is a person by the name of Brad. When Weiss and Schwartz had ended, when we were no longer enemies, it was Kitten that first came to our house, flowers at hand and an invitation to dinner.
It took about five dinners, three luncheons, and two picnics to finally believe that Weiss was not going to attack us and that Aya didn't have his Katana hidden in his coat [he just hid his dagger in his boots], that Ken's bugnuk were left at home [he had dagger hidden too], that Youji's wire was not in his watch [it was in his pocket], and that Kitten left his arrows at home [he only brought the darts].
Of course it took more persistence from Kitten to tell Brad to stop calling him Bombay that his name was Omi, not Bombay. The days of Weiss and Schwartz killing each other were over. Brad still does it, time to time, almost a slip of the tongue, but Kitten's pout will always correct his mistake.
Course I don't think Brad really understands why he can't say no to Kitten. I think he's confused to a sense. He's always so stoic, cold. He almost matches Aya for coldness; they can both battle for Kingship of Coldness. I really wonder who'd win. It's almost like he has no emotions, although his mind tells me that's not true, he just doesn't act on them. Now that gives me a migraine.
Nagi and Kitten, they just hit it off. Their both so young. They both should have had different lives. It should have been different; they should have had memories of sunshine and happiness. I guess fate isn't all that nice. But when they're together, you can see that they're only children. You can see that they're only teens. It's as if when they're together, having fun, just being kids, that's when it's almost normal for them.
I sometimes wonder if he'll ever be Mamoru Takatori. If he'll ever become the Takatori he is supposed to be...I don't think he will...I don't think he can. I don't think that Mamoru can play the piano like him or laugh at anything like a care free child or hate celery like he does. Nah...I think that the Takatori blood line might still live, but the Takatori spirit is dead. Amen to that.
[][][]
I'm sorry if this wasn't at all in character. Please forgive me. I hope you did enjoy it and hopefully it wasn't all that bad. Please read and review. Thank you!
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz or its characters
Warning: Yaoi between Omi and Schildich, sorry if you don't like the couple. A bit AU-ish.
Schildich muses about a certain person he loves. Schildich POV.
[][][]
He like music
No...he doesn't like it, he loves it
He loves music
He doesn't care what style or genre, he loves it
He could be blasting "Sleepless Beauty" from Gravitation that he likes and then suddenly he'll be listening Mozart's Symphony No.25.
He sings to it, dances to it, laughs to it, and sometimes, sometimes he cries to it.
You should hear him play. It's so beautiful. So full of life, so full of him. You can hear his very soul in his music. His room had so many things crammed in, if you peeked in you'd almost be insured never to come back out. Of course, I'm more of a voluntary victim.
I got him to move everything out, to make more room for him. We moved all his instruments, all of it to a new room here. It's now dubbed "Kitten's Music Room" and only the privileged few are allowed in. Mainly me.
I like it best when he plays the piano. His small fingers, so delicate, so deadly, they flow down the keys, fluid and full of grace. It's amazing how those same fingers have deadly accuracy when it comes to darts. He sounds like he had been trained as classic pianist, yet sometimes he'll slip into jazz where all rules change and you'll see a new kitten. And other days he'll be at his keyboard, making music that he could probably sell to a record company.
It's so different to see those delicate fingers producing music fit for heaven and then remember the days when they were Weiss and we were Schwarz and remember those same fingers holding those poisonous darts, ready to kill, ready to end life on order. But that was then, this is now.
He reminds me of Nagi. Nagi likes to draw. He likes to sit somewhere and draw for hours and hours. He'll draw and paint and etch and watercolor and charcoal. They'll be pictures everywhere around the house papers fluttering like doves. Pictures of Brad or Farf or me or Kitten or even the rest of Weiss. He said they have beautiful faces to draw. Or sometimes he'll draw anything that lies around the house. You know Farf's knives or Brad's newspapers or Kitten's instruments.
They're so alike. They even look alike. Cherubic faces, large eyes, hair that falls over their eyes that denotes them cute from all the girls and boys. They're both artistically gifted, are dangerous as hell, and love their computers. [I sometimes seriously doubt his love to me] But I love them both in entirely different ways. Nagi's like my little brother, someone to take care of, Kitten's someone I love, someone to be with.
Even when they are alike, they are different. Nagi has the face of a sixteen year old, but his mind tells you something else. It's like he's too old for his age. He's so much more...jaded...by our business. It's like what we do leave a deeper impression in his mind. Maybe it's just his powers, but sometimes he knows more than he should about life. Sometimes he just downright scares the shit out of me, but that's Nagi.
It's his eyes that make him seem so much younger, so much more innocent than any of us really are. His eyes are...amazing. So brilliantly blue. Blue. It's the only way to describe them. Blue. Blue as in May-spring-sky-blue. Blue as in the-color-the- ocean-should-be blue. I call them blueberry eyes. Farf calls them angel eyes...that's never a good sign.
You can tell everything about him in those blue, blue eyes of his [and of course a dab into his mind]. You can tell he's caring, hard-working [to the point of exhaustion], he forgives but doesn't forget, most of all you can tell he's seen more than any child should have, just like Nagi. Even in their differences they are somewhat alike.
There'll be nights when he wakes up screaming. Screaming about something he had done or seen, screaming about being a murderer, about being covered in blood. And all I can do is stroke his hair and kiss his forehead and wipe away those tears, because he is a murderer...but so am I.
Then there'll be those night when he can't sleep, afraid to sleep, so he stays up and stares at the wall or sometimes he'll be on his laptop, talking to Nagi online because they both can't sleep. I'll wake up and see those blue, blue eyes staring off onto the distance or the computer screen, blue, blue eyes that glow in the dark and seem even bigger than they really are. Shining, sparkling in the dark.
Then there are things that his eyes can't tell, things that only certain special people are privy to. People he trusts. Things like he forgave Farf, but never forgot Oka. Kinda of stings sometimes, I'll admit, when he wakes up screaming Oka's name, but that's the least I deserve. After all I am the one that caused her death.
I also know he hates celery. So whenever Brad cooks, he likes things healthy, and healthy includes celery. I also know that his deepest and darkest fear is that he'll be left alone one day, abandoned like he was as a child. Hell, he's petrified that one day he's going to wake up and see that no one is here anymore and that we all abandoned him. He wouldn't care if we left him locked up in a cell with Farf when he's in one of those "moods" as long as he wasn't alone. He's afraid that he's going to have to live alone one day and some nights he'll wake up screaming, not Oka's name, but screaming and crying, clinging to me to never leave him, to always be there. Then I'll smile and kiss his forehead and promise that I never will.
He's a cheerful person. He very much is. He refuses to quit at any point, even if that obstacle is a person by the name of Brad. When Weiss and Schwartz had ended, when we were no longer enemies, it was Kitten that first came to our house, flowers at hand and an invitation to dinner.
It took about five dinners, three luncheons, and two picnics to finally believe that Weiss was not going to attack us and that Aya didn't have his Katana hidden in his coat [he just hid his dagger in his boots], that Ken's bugnuk were left at home [he had dagger hidden too], that Youji's wire was not in his watch [it was in his pocket], and that Kitten left his arrows at home [he only brought the darts].
Of course it took more persistence from Kitten to tell Brad to stop calling him Bombay that his name was Omi, not Bombay. The days of Weiss and Schwartz killing each other were over. Brad still does it, time to time, almost a slip of the tongue, but Kitten's pout will always correct his mistake.
Course I don't think Brad really understands why he can't say no to Kitten. I think he's confused to a sense. He's always so stoic, cold. He almost matches Aya for coldness; they can both battle for Kingship of Coldness. I really wonder who'd win. It's almost like he has no emotions, although his mind tells me that's not true, he just doesn't act on them. Now that gives me a migraine.
Nagi and Kitten, they just hit it off. Their both so young. They both should have had different lives. It should have been different; they should have had memories of sunshine and happiness. I guess fate isn't all that nice. But when they're together, you can see that they're only children. You can see that they're only teens. It's as if when they're together, having fun, just being kids, that's when it's almost normal for them.
I sometimes wonder if he'll ever be Mamoru Takatori. If he'll ever become the Takatori he is supposed to be...I don't think he will...I don't think he can. I don't think that Mamoru can play the piano like him or laugh at anything like a care free child or hate celery like he does. Nah...I think that the Takatori blood line might still live, but the Takatori spirit is dead. Amen to that.
[][][]
I'm sorry if this wasn't at all in character. Please forgive me. I hope you did enjoy it and hopefully it wasn't all that bad. Please read and review. Thank you!