Chapter 2: Back to School—Rosenkreuz Registration

For the enemy has persecuted my soul; He has crushed my life to the ground; He has made me dwell in darkness, Like those who have long been dead.
-- Psalms 143:3

Nagi was uncomfortably aware of the weight of his book bag the whole way home. His impassive face relaxed a little when he opened the door to his apartment to the ecstatic welcome of his cat, Jei. Jei threaded through his legs, rubbing against Nagi's shins, ankles, feet, whatever he could reach. Nagi let the book bag fall to the floor with a thump just inside the door.

He nudged Jei back just enough to close the door, shutting out the outside world for the night. He toed off his shoes and put on his house slippers, then picked up Jei, allowing the cat to ride his shoulder as he turned to reluctantly pick up his bag again. Uncharacteristically, he contemplated leaving it in the entryway, to sit ignored until time to go to work again. Training prevented him from avoiding the work that it contained. With a sigh, he hefted the bag onto the shoulder that Jei wasn't riding on and hauled it to Schuldig's old room.

He flicked on the light, revealing a neat office. After Schuldig had moved out, Nagi had sold off the furniture and had the office set up. The empty third bedroom stayed empty. Since Schuldig had left, he hadn't gone in there. Most days, he forgot it was there. Even with the new furniture, he still felt as if his office was still Schuldig's room. Sometimes, he thought he caught a whiff of Schuldig's imported cigarettes or his cologne.

Today, that nagging feeling was stronger than usual. He stopped just before the desk, then turned around and went back out to his room. He dropped the bag on his desk there. It was where he usually did his schoolwork. Nagi the student would have to share the desk with Nagi the Kritiker agent for these particular files. He didn't like the overlap, but he liked Schuldig's absence hovering around like a ghost even less.

He stared at the bag in trepidation, then took a deep breath. Jei, who had been quietly riding his shoulder the whole time, jumped off onto the desk. He watched solemnly as Nagi briskly unzipped the bag and took out the stack of files from it. He dropped them on the desk as soon as they cleared the bag, like he found the brief contact distasteful. Jei's eyes squeezed shut, and the tip of his tail flicked. Nagi petted the almost-grown cat lightly with his fingertips, scratching when the cat leaned in to his touch.

"Do you know what that is, Jei?" Nagi asked the purring cat. Jei opened his eyes and mewed at Nagi.

Nagi's mouth turned down. "Of course you didn't. I wish I didn't either." He shooed the cat off the desk. Jei jumped on the bed and curled up on Nagi's pillow to sulk. Nagi wished he could join Jei on the bed, just lay his head down and sleep. Maybe when he woke, the folders will be gone. Nagi scoffed. He was too old to believe in fairytales.

He sat down and stared at the stack. He may be too old for fables, but he knew from personal experience that there were dark things in the woods. And dark places. Like Rosenkreuz. He flipped open the folder on top, read the information there. Distaste and fear curled in his belly as he read. As much as he tried to see otherwise, the information was undeniable. All the paths led to Rosenkreuz's cold iron gates.

He could see those gates in his mind, even though he had only seen them twice—the first time when he was entering Rosenkreuz, the last when he was leaving it. They had been imposing, black sentinels to a small, frightened and confused child. Crawford had found him in Japan and brought him to Rosenkreuz for training. And Rosenkreuz had trained him. He had practiced and strived every waking moment, pushed into developing and strengthening his talent.

There had been no other option. Failure in these grueling classes didn't mean a bad grade. It usually meant death. Nagi's youth had not spared him the exacting curriculum. He had worked as hard as students twice his age, and no allowances had been made for him. He had found himself working harder than some, actually. He had spoken only a little English and no German when he had passed through Rosenkreuz's gates. When he left, he had spoken flawless German and passable English.

That he had mastered his talent was without doubt. If he hadn't passed Rosenkreuz's punishing 'final exam,' he wouldn't have left through that gate. Not living, anyway. To be fair, he hadn't been mistreated, exactly. The instructors were never cruel, only the curriculum. They never yelled or harmed anyone physically. They didn't have to harm anyone for all their pupils to fear them. They were agents of death, and all the students were aware of that, every hour of every day. Fear darkened that place, tainted it. It could be smelled in the dorms, tasted in the cafeteria, and felt everywhere on that barricaded campus.

Rosenkreuz was where Nagi had learned that there was more things scarier than a raised hand or thrown stone. That hurt, fear and pain weren't just inflicted physically. That scars could happen on more than the body, that the heart, soul and mind were just as susceptible. Nagi still carried his scars. They were evident in his reluctance to accept the obvious conclusions in front of him, a reluctance that had led to the weeks of sleepless nights trying to ferret out another cause.

Even now that he was gone from Rosenkreuz, it still had a hold on him. He would always associate Rosenkreuz with the feeling of fear. He felt that now, thousands of miles from that insular campus. He didn't want to fall under the cold shadow of Rosenkreuz again. But he might not have a choice. Persia was getting impatient to wrap this up, to begin the hunt for the "dark beasts" responsible for the disappearances of sixteen teenagers.

What was Nagi to tell him? That these "dark beasts" weren't Kritiker's typical prey? The people of Rosenkreuz weren't prey. They were predators. Top of the food chain. Nagi set the folder aside, propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his clasped hands. He stared unseeingly at the files scattered in front of him. He knew what had to be done. A light touch against his leg made him start and look down.

Jei mewed up at him, demanding to be picked up. Nagi complied, depositing the feline on his lap. "Well Jei, it looks like I'm going back to Rosenkreuz."

----

"Rosenkreuz," Omi said, summarizing Nagi's report.

Nagi's silence was confirmation enough. Omi tapped the file on his desk. "I'll send Crashers. All we need to do is find out where Rosenkreuz has the children."

"No," Nagi said. "Send me. I'll find them and retrieve them, if possible. I'm Kritiker's only chance."

Omi raised a brow. "Crashers is a good team, one of Kritiker's best for this sort of thing."

"I don't doubt that," Nagi said. "But Rosenkreuz and Esset are intertwined. If you thought Schwarz was tough. . ."

"I see," Omi said. "But I can't send you alone."

"I understand," Nagi said without rancor. "My previous ties to Rosenkreuz would make that unwise."

"No, it's not that, Nagi-kun!" Omi stood up and came around the desk to where Nagi was standing. "I trust you," he said quietly. "It's just..." Omi stared down at his hands, wondering how to put the next.

"It's just what?"

"I don't like the idea of sending any of my people against such a threat alone." Omi leaned against the edge of his desk. "So I'll go with you as back up."

"Back up?" Nagi didn't know whether to be touched or insulted. Schwarz rarely dealt with that concept. They went where the Oracle deemed them most useful, alone more often than not. Except in the case of Farfarello. But that was a different matter all together. Farfarello didn't need back up. More like a leash or a restraining hand.

"Yes. We'll leave once we get the last reports from our European agents," Omi told him.

"Why you?" Nagi narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "You're Persia. You're needed more here. This mission could be dangerous. If anything was to happen to you—"

"I'm not worried about that," Omi said. "I'm sure I won't come to harm. I'm more worried about you."

Nagi then knew that Omi had been aware all this time of Nagi's trepidation of going back to Rosenkreuz. "Who's going with me," he asked softly, "Bombay or Persia?"

"Omi is," Omi told him gently. He approached and put a tentative hand on Nagi's shoulder. Nagi stiffened instinctively, then forced himself to relax.

"All right," Nagi said abruptly, then stepped away from Omi's friendly touch. His face didn't show distaste, however, just a hint of confusion and hesitant warmth. Omi stepped back, business once again, giving Nagi the space he needed. That hint of warmth would have to be carefully nurtured. It had been a seed long left in the dark. Too much sun could kill it, rather than cause it to grow.

Omi watched Nagi leave his office. Nagi was special to Kritiker for his computer savvy, his intelligence, his cool nerve and his talents. But Nagi was also special in ways that he didn't know yet. Omi hoped that he could open Nagi's eyes to those aspects of himself.

A/N:
Sorry it took so long to post. I'm trying to keep 'Cathedrals of the Mind' and this fic parallel, so it has been extra effort for me. I don't think I'll be trying anything this ambitious again!

Yanagi-sen: You're very welcome. Omi's good for Nagi, in my opinion.

TrenchcoatMan: Thank you. Information is always appreciated. Due to my woeful lack of knowledge on the drama CDs, I had already resigned myself to the fact that this arc is going to be slightly AU. But there is always next time. . .