I don't own Nagi. I don't own Schuldig. I don't own Crawford, and I don't own Farfarello. In fact I don't even own Weiss Kreuz and all of its characters. I only use them for my own pleasure (and I hope that it can serve your pleasure as well.....) ^_^

Well, I don't know how this story could expand as it did. But then again, it is needed in order to give a little guess and hints on what Nagi would write. I want to let the other Schwarz member to give Nagi something for the essay. The last chapter should be the next chapter (according to my recent plot)... but who knows, perhaps it could expand.... but I really hope not. I'd rather make this story a bit short.

Thanks to all of you who have reviewed this fanfiction. I'm very grateful that you really spare some time to write something on this. I hope you don't find the story going to degradation, if it does, please tell me and I will try to work on it. To be honest, I'm not too good in grammar and tenses... I'm working hard on it. Big thanks to Feby for the newspaper idea, though it came from my other fanfic... and also to Leon and Quince, my big thanks for being my thesaurus dictionary.

Now, on with the fic. I'd be very happy to read your reviews.

Chapter 3

Nagi slid the window open and sat on the window sill. He moved a stack of paper and a pen onto his lap. His lips drew out a sigh, and his violet eyes looked absent mindedly to the city skyline, wondering how he could start writing his essay.

His mind wandering slowly to the past, to something long forgotten, to a family he once had before all this insanity started. It wasn't too long then, but it felt like hundreds of years had gone by. He couldn't remember much of it. They were only blurred image from the past. Something he couldn't put his hands on. And they slipped through his fingers.


He only remembered that certain night, when he woke up alone in his room. There was noise from his parents' room. He crept slowly down his bad and headed towards the hall. His curiosity pushed him to peep through the cracks of the door.

"You bitch! You slept with another man!" that was the first clear sentence he could remember.

Nagi saw a shadow in the darkness of the room. It was his father. The man was sitting on the bed, face bent down to a figure lying there. His hand firmly squeezed her on the neck.

"I … love … you…," the woman replied amidst her fight to breathe the air.

"You would not sleep with others if you really love me!" The man spat on her face. "You don't sleep with another man if you really love me!" He jerked the woman off to bed.

"But we need money," the woman answered after she managed to control her breath.

"And I don't earn enough?"

The woman shook her head. "You don't, and Nagi needs the money for –."

The man cut right through, "So you're willing to do anything for him, even to play behind my back?!"

"He is my baby, my son!"

"He is my goddamn son too! Do you think he's not?"

The woman fell silent, and her sobs became more distinct in the dark. She turned her head away from the man. She shook her head.

The man grew tensed. "What? He is not?! Fuck!!" He clenched his teeth. "You bitch!" He pushed the woman down and jerked from bed. "I'll get Nagi, so he'd know what kind of mother he has." He opened the door.
The man looked down and found the brown haired was standing in front of the door. Nagi was too shocked to move. His body was trembling. He never thought he would see what he had seen. He couldn't believe what he had heard either.

"Ha, he's already here." A strong hand took Nagi and suddenly he was sitting on a chair at the corner of the room. "You know what we're going to do with a bitch like your mother, Nagi?" The man headed back to the bed and covered his wife. Nagi didn't want to see, but his eyes refused to close. "Look close, Nagi, how your mother said she earned her money."

"I did it for you. Believe me," the woman sobbed, "I did it for you…."

"Shut up!" the man slapped her face and started to work his hands all over his wife. "How did the man tasted? Was he better than me?"

"Stop it, please… not in front of Nagi…."

"Let him see what kind of mother he has."

The sobs went harder between her breaths. She screamed, "No! Please! No!"

"Shut up! If you don't shut up let me shut you up!" His hand began to clenched around her neck.

"I… did… it… for… you…"

"If you did it for me, you wouldn't sleep with another man, you bitch!"

"Na… gi…"

Nagi saw two wide violet eyes looking at him. And the woman's hand reached for him. "Na… gi…." She stretched and her hand grew limp. Nagi's eyes turned to his father and the man glared back at him.

"You!" He gasped, "You made her do it! You were her reason!" The man dumped the woman's lifeless body and he walked closer to Nagi and shove him off the chair. "You made her do it!" He yelled at the boy. His body bent over the small figure on the floor. "You made her do it! How could you? She belongs to me! She belongs to me only!"

The man pined the boy. Nagi could feel his breath on his face and see the glare in the man's eyes. The man. Just a man, for he was not his father. His father was a loving person. A man who adored his wife so much, and would treasure the jewel of their marriage. But this man had strangled his wife to death and now he was going to hurt his son.

"Otousan…." Nagi started to cry.

"I am not your father, damn it! You are no one!" The man murmured. His body was shaking and he burst out a hysterical laugh, "But you might be his son. Yes, you might be his son!" He smirked as his hands grew tighter against the boy's wrists.

"Oka…san…." Nagi called his mother, but those eyes were just staring back at him. "Help…." He felt his breathing grew hard. The man over him laughed hysterically. //Somebody, help me… Somebody…// He closed his eyes, wishing that it was all just a nightmare and he would be awaken tomorrow to the sound of the whistling kettle and everything would be all right.

A burning pain on his face forced him to open his eyes again. "You look at me when I'm talking to you!" he demanded. But his voice faltered and his angry face was taken over with fear. "You devil child!" He trembled and moved back, "Your eyes…." But before he got away, his body was slammed to the wall with a cracking voice.


Yokohama times, Monday,
Another miserable homicide happened again as a young working class family ended their happy life on tragic killing last Monday. According to the police, Naoe Michiko (24) was strangled to death by her own husband, Naoe Hachiro (27). A neighbor who happened to live across said she witnessed the husband strangled his wife to death through the window. The man, however, was found dead crashed on the bedroom wall. The post-mortem could not determine what actually happened, except for the fact that all of the man's internal organs were severely damaged.
Nevertheless, the authority said that one soul survived in this incident. The couple's five year old son, Naoe Nagi, was found lying unconscious on the floor with only bruises on his skin. However, the boy could not be questioned further because of his unstable condition for having witnessed such a horrible murder…


Nagi let go a piece of paper to the air. That was the story of him. A story long forgotten, about a family he once had. They didn't exist anymore. And he just let the wind to take the page away. His eyes looked down to the street. He belonged to Schwarz now. That was his life was all about. A group of four people, trying to survive this world with only hate that had rotten their heart. He could hardly believe that he could still feel emotions, after all that had happened to him.

He wondered, while his hand slowly let go another page into the air and wished it could take away his feelings. He watched the paper dancing away with the air, to the noisy street below, dancing into the silence of his world. He let another page fall and another, and another again until he let go all his paper. He watched those pieces moving away from him. And he wanted to let himself go….


"Du, Nagi," an accented voice called him from the door.

Nagi snapped out of his day dream and realized that the sun was already setting and the sky had turned its color from blue to orange hue. He already knew who was standing at the door, but he moved his head to look at the man anyway. Schuldig was at the door, one hand still holding on the door knob. He looked gleaming in the twilight of the dusk. His hair glimmered like sunset.

"I'm going out. Want me to buy anything for dinner?" he asked.

"No, thank you." Nagi answered insipidly. He turned his face away from Schuldig and put his stare back to the crimson sky. He didn't realize that time had gone so fast and he had not written anything yet. He had no more paper on his lap. He had let every pieces of it away from his hand, each with a scribble on it.

Schuldig eyed around Nagi's room. He noticed that the wind had blown a piece of paper to his shoes. He picked it up slowly and read the scripts, "My Family". The writing was mostly written in kanji, and Schuldig hardly understand these characters. He could only catch the commonly used ones and it gave him only random idea of the content. "An essay, I see." Schuldig stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. The boy nodded slowly.

"About your family?"

The boy nodded again.

"And what are you going to write?" The German was now standing right next to Nagi. His head bent down to Nagi, but the boy still refused to look back at him.

"I don't know," he paused, "Do you?"

Schuldig sighed. He could not answer the boy either. He had no memories left of his family. It's not that he had no memories left at all, he just chose to forget them. He didn't like his past. The past was too hurting. The past tortured him. And his family belonged to the past. "I don't know," he said slowly.

Nagi looked up. He wasn't surprised on the German's answer, but the tone made him tilted his head. Schuldig was always obnoxious. He was always loud. Now his answer was like a whisper. And Nagi found the man turning his face away from him and his hands crushed the paper. The boy wondered what was in his mind.

//Don't ask anything.//

//I won't.//

//…..//

Schuldig took a deep breath and sighed again. "You can only fake it," he said finally. "You can't tell anyone about the truth."

"This truth was only lies."

Schuldig smirked at the boy's note. "You're right. We live in lies, but that's the only way to survive. That's the only way. If we stop living in this lie, we would not be able to live."

"Then why don't we just let ourselves die?"

"Because it's a sin." Schuldig chuckled at his own words. //Which would make you a worse sinner, to kill yourself or to kill others?// Schuldig thought to himself.

"Then why Farfarello had not killed himself?" Nagi asked.

And that was the answer, "Because killing others will make you a worse sinner."

Nagi turned his head back to the darkened sky. Building lamps and street lamps had turned on. Fake stars. Fake lights. And darkness lurked all over the city. The sky above looked dull against the city light. Even the stars were too frightened to show up in the dark.

The door opened. "Schuldig," a deep voice called from the door, "Let's go."

Nagi noticed Schuldig snapped back on his feet. "Yes, Sir," he answered, back into his usual behavior. The orange haired smiled at the boy. "You really don't need anything?" he asked.

"No."

"Schuldig, hurry. They are waiting for us." Crawford was getting impatient.

"All right then." Schuldig moved towards the door and went out.

"Take care of the house," Crawford said as he closed the door, "Don't forget to feed Farfarello and close the window when you leave the room."


Silence fell as the two left. Nagi stepped down and closed the window. He didn't know why he naturally obeyed Crawford. It was about eight and it was time to give the lunatic something to eat. He was often locked in his room, just for precautions. Farfarello could hurt anyone, even also his comrades. //Is killing partners a bigger sin than merely killing others?// Nagi wondered as he walked to the kitchen. He took out a packet of frozen dinner and threw it into the microwave. Farfarello would eat anything served for him.

Schuldig was the one who was usually responsible for taking care of the Irish. They usually worked together and often seen together. Farfarello seemed to obey Schuldig somehow. If he didn't, at least the German could always tame his mind.

The microwave tone a "beep" tune to signal that the food was ready. Nagi took the food out and started arranging it on a tray with a glass of water and an apple. He picked it up and headed to Farfarello's room.

The door was latched from the outside to make sure that he could not get out of the room. Nagi used his telekinetic power to open the latches one by one and let the door open. "Your dinner, Farfarello," he said plainly as he put the tray on the floor.

One hazel eye looked up at the corner of that darkened room. The white haired figure said nothing. He raised himself from his seat and walked silently to his food. Nagi could see dark red stains on his bandages. He noticed that the Irish's skin was wounded in several places. The man had hurt himself again. That was his ritual. Every time he got angered at God, he would hurt someone. And if he didn't find anyone to harm, he would torture himself.

That was sick! And the fact that Farfarello had hurt himself again made Nagi thought of leaving the room immediately. What if he would rather hurt his partner rather than hurting himself? The boy hurried turning his body and was about to close the door when a pale hand caught his wrist. Nagi jerked the hand off his wrist but he froze when he saw another pale hand passed a piece of crushed paper to him.

"Yours."

He took the paper from the white haired and studied it. It was his own paper, perhaps it came through the bars that guarded Farfarello's window. Farfarello might have crushed it. There were stains of blood on that bluish white piece of paper. Nagi looked up to meet that hazel eye. The pale hand was still holding him. Firm, yet it felt warm.

"Come." Farfarello pulled his hand and asked Nagi to join him.

The brown haired boy came in without refusal. He obeyed and sat on the floor while he watched the man lit many candles that surrounded the room. Little flames dancing slowly as they burned the stearine. Nagi could see a cross hung upside down above the door. The room was empty from furniture. There were only candles, books, and several blades all scattered on the bare concrete floor.

Farfarello sat in front of Nagi. He pushed his tray away from him. "You wrote that?" he gestured and pointed to Nagi's hand. "Difficult matter," he said. Nagi nodded. He didn't know where that conversation might end. He looked at the paper. There was nothing written there but the title. The page was empty, and indeed, he knew not about a family, and less about his own family. He even wondered if he ever had one.

"Tell me," pale lips said.

Nagi lowered his head. He was not sure what to say, he was not sure if he had to stay there either. Half of his mind told him to leave the room immediately, but the other half said that he had to stay there. Farfarello might have the answer to his questions. Schuldig had closed the discussion then, he clearly mentioned that he didn't want to talk about family. Nagi surely didn't want to ask Crawford. He was too afraid to ask. And there was Farfarello. The man was willing to talk about it.

"Talk," the man said again, "You are in a sanctuary."

Sanctuary? From what? From who? From the world? From life? From God? From school? From Crawford? From Schuldig? From my self? Nagi wondered to himself. He looked up and met the other's one eye. It seemed flickering in the candle light. "What to talk?" Nagi asked in a hushed voice. He was not sure to speak anyway.

"You."

Silence.

"The paper."

Silence again.

Stillness came into air. Nobody spoke for a long time. The only sound was only light crackles that came from the flames. Nagi's eyes fixed to his paper but he knew that the other man was watching him closely. Farfarello sat there quietly, he did not move. It seemed that he was fixed there. Nagi, on the other hand, was uneasy. The paper was due to tomorrow and he had nothing to write about. But nevermind about his paper, his mind was burdened with his own thought; his father, his mother, life, that homicide, Schwarz, assassinations, life again, family…. What were their meanings? What were they anyway?

"Confused?" a voice broke the silence.

Nagi nodded.

"You don't have to write anything," Farfarello said again.

Nagi looked up in wonder. "Why?"

"The blank paper reveals it all," the other answered.

The boy looked again at the paper. Aside from the title on the top left of the paper, there was no more writing. It was as blank as his mind. But then, as he remembered, he had no family, and therefore, he had nothing to write about.

"Just fake it," he remembered Schuldig said before he left him earlier. But he had no idea how to pretend to have a family. He had forgotten what is like to be a part of one. It was too long since the last time he was caressed. He had not remembered how it tasted to be a child. No trace of memory left. No trace of feeling left.
Nagi shuddered at his own thought.

"You're afraid." Again Farfarello voiced from the silence.

"No."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Nothing."

"Liar!"

"I'm not!" Nagi paused at his own denial. //Aren't we all just lies?//

Farfarello was silent again. He quietly waited for the younger one to say more, but it seemed useless. The boy still sat there in silence. Those violet eyes refused to stare at him. The head was bent down. Hand crushed the paper into a wrinkled shape. His body was shaking.

"Pretending," the boy muttered, "I'm tired of pretending."

Farfarello kept his one eye fixed on the quivering figure in front of him. He said nothing. He did nothing. It was enough for him to hear the words coming out from the boy's mouth. That was what he wanted. Truth. A truth behind the masquerade the boy had held so long as they know one another. And really, Farfarello was not as crazy as others might think. This craziness was merely his denial. It was his masquerade to keep him safe. His sanctuary.

Nagi sobbed. "I'm tired of living this lies," the boy muttered, "I wish I just go to hell. It could not be worse than this, could it, Farfarello?" He looked up to the man, asking for an answer. But the man turned his head away. He whispered slowly, barely audible, "You will not go to hell, Nagi, for your road was hard," he continued, "And only the easy road that leads to hell."

The violet eyes widened to the words. He demanded explanation. He never heard Farfarello said such things. It sounded like a quote from the Bible. Nagi had heard once from Schuldig that Farfarello remembered any phrase from the book, and he had heard as well a piece of the man's past, how he was an obedient Christian, but he never really saw that behind this sadistic killing machine.

There was no answer from the Irish.

"Farfarello?" Nagi called the man. The white head turned around and looked at the boy with his sole eye. "What do you mean?"

The man tilted his head. "You don't need to fake it, if you want to," he answered, "Just say what you will. It will open their eyes." He snickered. "Just say what you will. Be honest with your lies."

Nagi looked at the man puzzled. The other calmed himself down and said again, "You have to get out your sanctuary before you're trapped in it. I know you understand what I mean." The man sighed. He stood up. "Now go back to your room. You still have an essay to write." He gave his hand to Nagi.

The boy stood and was taken to the door. "Good night, Nagi," the one eyed said.

Nagi forced a smile on his lips and muttered a good night wish. He closed the door and put the latches back again. He didn't notice the man whispered slowly beneath his breath, "God, only this time I let you be right, even though it hurts me badly. As bad as you are, you know how to give good things to your children." And he picked a stiletto from the floor and squeezed the blade to his skin, the only revenge he could do to his God.

-to be continued-

Finally, chapter 3 is over.... It wasn't suppose to be this long... and I really had it hard to describe the conversation between Farf and Nagi. As we all know, they both are silent. And I need to make Farf as humanly as possible, but still give a hint of his lunacy at the same time. And it really surprised me that I bothered scanning through the book to see if there's a line or two that I could use for this chapter....