Chapter 17: Drowning in Memory
fearless Wretch
insanity
He watches
lurking beneath the sea
timeless sleep
has been upset
He awakens
Hunter of the Shadows is rising
immortal
in madness You dwell
Not dead which eternal lie
stranger eons Death may die
drain you of your sanity
face The Thing That Should Not Be
-Metallica, 'The Thing That Should Not Be'
The moon was a sliver of silver, a scythe that cut into the black sky. Clouds were out tonight, grey veils that obscured the stars, the moon. Schuldig pounded on the door to the cathedral on the hill. He could hear the sounds of his fists striking the wood echo within, but he couldn't hear the ring of footsteps coming to answer. The forest pressed around him. It was too dark tonight to run through it, but Schuldig knew that soon he was going to have to try.
With a bitter curse, he turned away from the door. He had to go. Now. He ran past the windows pouring their golden light on the black ground outside. He had gotten past the cathedral's light when he heard the hunter, a second set of running steps that mirrored and mocked his own. He ran towards the small church. Where was it? Why couldn't he find it? He looked for a dim light through the darkness and saw nothing but shadows and trees.
His foot caught on a root buried in the rotting leaves. He stumbled, then fell, only to sink into water. The taste of brine filled his mouth, his nose. A silver-haired child, laughing with a kindly nun. That same child, playing with a younger girl. The child again, kneeling in a church, saying his prayers. Now reading a bible. Singing in the choir. Listening to the nun tell stories. The scene darkened. The child, with blood on his hands. Blood. Blood. So much blood. The world had gone dark with it. He could taste it, was drinking it.
He felt strong arms wrap around him. Unraveling bandages floated around him. A pale scarred hand gently stroked his face, over his eyes, forcing him to close them. "Sleep, Schuldig. Leave yer cares t' me. I'll take care of everythin'."
----
Omi cursed alcohol and hangovers. Both Aya and Yohji were hung over this morning, so he had been forced to open the shop on his own. He didn't feel right asking Ken to help because Ken was scheduled to close. Luckily, it was a quiet morning. He had only had two customers since he had opened, and it was nearing noon now. He decided to treat himself to a leisurely lunch. He had a taste for something Italian. Antonio's or Provenza's? Antonio's. He hadn't had their pollo firenze in weeks. And the tiramisu! Omi locked up, put out the 'gone to lunch' sign, and left.
The restaurant hostess smiled when Omi came in. "Tsukiyono-san, this way please."
"What? Who, me?" Omi pointed at himself. He had come here on a whim. He hadn't made any reservations.
The hostess smiled and nodded. "Yes. I was told to seat you right away. Your associate is waiting. This way please." Omi tensed. What was going on? He followed the woman. If he wanted to find out all the parameters of the problem, he had to gather the information. It all became clear when he saw who was at the table. "Crawford-san."
Crawford pushed his glasses further up on his face. "Thank you, Mariko. Please have a seat, Mr. Tsukiyono."
"If I don't?"
"Why wouldn't you? You've been looking for me, have you not?" Crawford took off his glasses and began to polish them with one of the linen napkins. As he looked down on his task, he looked younger to Omi, more approachable. Omi gingerly slid into the seat opposite of the Oracle.
"Yes, I have," he cautiously replied.
"Well, you've found me. Or more appropriately, I found you." Crawford looked up at Omi. Even without his glasses, Omi had no doubt that Crawford could see him quite well. That gaze was too direct for it to be otherwise. "I know why too, so let's cut to the chase. You can put me in contact with Nagi."
Omi didn't like sitting here talking to an unknown factor like Crawford, but he had been looking for the man for Nagi's sake. "Yes. I only have a cell phone number though." He had Nagi's apartment building too, courtesy of Ken, but he didn't want to tell Crawford that. Crawford could talk to Nagi over the phone, and Nagi could then decide how he wanted to meet the American.
Crawford slid his glasses back into place, pushing them up with his index finger. "That'll do. The number please."
Omi scribbled the number on a piece of paper and slid it across the table to Crawford. Crawford picked up the folded paper and tucked it into his inner jacket pocket. He rose as the waiter approached. "Thank you, Mr. Tsukiyono. Lunch is on me." With that, he left. The waiter placed a plate of pollo firenze in front of Omi.
Omi stared at the plate. How did Crawford know? He shook his head. Dealing with Schwarz was a strange business.
----
Nagi rode the elevator up to his floor. He was worried about Schuldig. Nagi had called the school to tell them he had to take care of a sick relative. It wasn't far from the truth. When he was certain that Schuldig had finally fell asleep, Nagi had gone out to get more bandages. They were nearly out, and if Schuldig was going to keep getting hurt like this, they needed to stock up.
He opened the door and dropped the bandages in shock. Schuldig didn't look up from what he was doing as he sliced more lines into his arms, his torso. He was striped with blood and the floor was blotched with it. "Schuldig!" Schuldig continued to ignore him as he hummed to himself. The tune was familiar. It was one that Farfarello used to hum while he worked sometimes.
Things felt surreal for Nagi, but he couldn't figure out how or why they had happened. It was like Farfarello was back. Schuldig stopped and looked up with one eye. The other was hidden by a curtain of hair. "Nagi." He tilted his head in a disturbingly familiar way. It was one of Farfarello's mannerisms.
Nagi gathered himself. He didn't know what was going on, but he had to do something. Schuldig was bleeding all over. In the end, he found an old straitjacket of Farfarello's that had been buried at the bottom of one of his suitcases and used it to restrain Schuldig. The telepath didn't even blink as Nagi tightened the straps. Nagi led him to the empty bedroom, the one that Schuldig had insisted on but had never explained why.
Had Schuldig had another use in mind, or had he known subconsciously that the empty room would be needed? Nagi didn't want to think about that. That would mean that Schuldig had been worse off than he had thought for much longer than he had thought. If only Crawford were here. Nagi didn't know what to do now. He couldn't let Schuldig go to work, walk the streets. He also couldn't leave Schuldig alone for too long, either. Not if he was like Farfarello now.
In the silence of the apartment, Nagi cleaned the floors of Schuldig's blood. He was just emptying out the second bucket when his cell phone rang, making him jump and drop the bucket. Bloody water splashed him, making his skin crawl. He raced over to his book bag and pulled out his phone. "Moshi moshi."
"Naoe."
At the sound of that familiar, self-assured voice, Nagi sat down hard on the floor and clutched the tiny phone like it was a lifeline. "Crawford."
"Where are you?"
Nagi let himself wilt with relief as he gave Crawford directions to the apartment. When he hung up, he felt his worries lift and dissipate. Crawford would know what to do. Jei crawled into his lap. Nagi picked up the kitten and cradled it in his arms. "It's finally going to be okay, Jei," he told the kitten softly. "Crawford will take care of it." The kitten stared at him for a moment, gold eyes flat and impenetrable, then it turned to join Nagi in watching the door. Nagi's eyes held a glimmer of hope; Jei's remained unreadable yet fixed as they waited for Crawford to arrive.
----
When Nagi answered the door, Crawford's first thought was that Nagi hadn't changed much. He wore a black school uniform rather than a grey one, but he looked pretty much the same as the last time Crawford had seen him. Then he spotted the white kitten in Nagi's arms. The animal looked vaguely familiar. It stared at him with an intent, inscrutable gaze. Crawford didn't like the kitten's unblinking stare but didn't make any comment about Nagi's new pet.
"Naoe. Where's Schuldig?"
Nagi silently led Crawford to a bedroom and unlocked it, revealing the single thing in the barren room: the slumped figure of Schuldig, wrapped in a blood-stained white straitjacket. Crawford knelt on one knee next to Schuldig, eye to eye with him. Nagi stood watching his former leader from the doorway, the white kitten held in his arms. Schuldig turned his head to see who was so close to him. There was something feral yet desperate in those eyes, thought the smirk stayed the same. It was wrong. Madness.
Crawford stood up, defeat a tangible bitterness in his mouth. Failure. He was too late. What he had seen, he hadn't been able to prevent. He turned away. Nagi looked at him hopefully, an expression that unsettled Crawford almost as much as the look in Schuldig's eyes. He had never seen such an expression on Nagi's face. He took the young boy by the shoulder and led him out of the room.
He sighed softly and took off his glasses so he could massage his eyes, the bridge of his nose. "We're going to have to send him to Rosenkreuz. They're the only ones who could possibly be able to deal with a telepathic psychotic."
"No."
Crawford lowered his hand to look at Nagi. "No? What do you mean by that?"
Nagi looked away and nibbled on his lower lip. But his voice stayed steady. "No. We can't send Schuldig back there. He'd rather die than go back."
"But we have no choice, Nagi." Crawford gentled his voice. "Surely you can see that. What else can we do for him?"
"Please, Crawford. Not Rosenkreuz."
"We have no other alternative."
"No!" The floor vibrated, then everything stilled. Both Crawford and Nagi were taken aback by the reaction. Alarmed, Jei jumped out of Nagi's arms and disappeared. Nagi raised beseeching eyes to Crawford. "Just talk to him, please. I know that you can talk to him, like you did Farfarello."
"Farfarello was a different matter." Crawford couldn't confess to Nagi that he had lied to Farfarello at times, manipulated him. There was no way he was going to be able to do the same to a telepath. Nagi's look didn't change. Crawford was touched by the boy's faith in him. He found himself giving in. "All right. I'll try. But I can't guarantee anything. He's probably still going to have to go to Rosenkreuz anyway."
Nagi nodded mutely. Crawford sighed. How did he get into this situation? This was pointless. Yet it wouldn't hurt to go in and talk to Schuldig. Maybe it'll give him a clue what had happened. He went in to face insanity again.
----
A/N:
pollo firenze – An Italian dish made with a chicken breast stuffed with different cheeses and spinach.
Moshi moshi – Common Japanese phone greeting.
LoneCayt—sorry if it seems I'm picking on Aya. But I just can't see him as the 'forgive and forget' type, you know? It worked well for the story, too.
Hisoka—I like the friendship that is developing there, too. As for drunk and bloodthirsty Yohji, I find him scary, too.
Kouyasufan—thanks for the info on Persia #3. Info is always good, in my book. Also thanks for seconding my assessment for how Aya would handle that. Nice to know that I'm not completely out in left field. Even if it did make me want to bonk him in the head for saying that.
Yanagi-sen—another person that likes to see the softer side to Schwarz. I like those glimpses, too.
FungiFungusRayne—No need to apologize! A Nagi-bird would be cute.
TrenchcoatMan—thanks for the review. About what's ultimately going to happen to Nagi, well, we'll see. I'm wrapping 'Opening Doors' up now, and just started roughing out the next part of this arc. I'll post after I put the last touches on the last few chapters and check for errors. As for the translations of the manga, this site has them: www. kekkai. org/wkcorner/ Just take out the spaces. Darn FFNet drops the link if I don't put them in