Me. Yohji fucking Kudoh, hysterical.
The funny thing is, I knew I was out of my mind, but even knowing that, I couldn't stop it. My heart was running the 10k and every bullet wound, broken bone, flesh wound, scratch, and ingrown nose hair was screaming out in protest in a white hot thread of pain. But I couldn't stop, I couldn't calm myself down. I was completely lost, a joke, I was making a fool of myself.
But HIS hands were on me. His hands which were washed in the blood and tears of a thousand more victims then I could ever hope to soil my own on were touching me. He was touching me.
When I tried to lash out with my legs he slide onto the bed, positioning himself over me without putting undue pressure on my wounded body, but effectively pinning my legs down so I couldn't beat him. I snarled and spit flickered out of my mouth. His eyes, cold like a polished jade stone, were calm the whole time.
I could feel the bile piling up in my stomach and if I did choose to hurl I hoped all of it hit him square in the face. I hope the stomach acid gave him scars and burned away the calm glint in his eyes.
"Calm down, Kudoh." He told me.
Calm the fuck down.
Like I could.
A second body entered the room and I could barely hear their footsteps over the thunder of my struggling. The deceptively diminitive Prodigy slid into my feild of vision and studied me with his impassive frown. His gaze turned from my hysteria to the Mastermind and he sighed. Mastermind in turn grabbed both of my wrists and shoved them over my head. He began to breath heavily from the effort of holding me down.
"He's a fighter, huh?" Mastermind asked over his shoulder, with a slightly amused smile.
Another sigh from the killer who was even younger than Omi. "Maybe he wouldn't be freaking out like that if it didn't look like you were trying to rape him." That, I realized, was probably the longest sentence I've ever heard from the pale teenager. Prodigy's attention shifted again and he lifted up a glass of water and a bottle of something that looked like presciption pain killers. "Get off him, Schuldig. He's not Farfarello."
The Mastermind... Shoe-dig?... complied and soon the light weight wrestled over my body lifted. I froze then, breath caught in a spike inside my throat. I could feel the wetness soaking the bed, sweat poured out from panic. Everything hurt. The familiar tight pull of stitches... the gunshot wound. Damn.
"Well," the telepath commented, his head tilting to the side slightly allowing a pool of dark orange hair to fall over his left shoulder. His long lips curled into a half smirk, "I guess we don't have to worry about him having anemisa."
I tensed as the Prodigy set the glass and bottle down and reached towards me. His silent glare met mind, warning that he'd accept no funny stuff and I could feel the slight press of invisible hands pull down on my shoulder as his reached over and pulled up my shirt to exmain my body. Lithe, his fingers were like butterflies dancing over my body. It still hurt though and I hissed outloud as his touch floated over inflammbed flesh. I wonder where I got this blue cotton shirt? It wasn't mine...
Who's bed was I in?
How many stitches were in my side...
The Prodigy shook his head, "That little stunt aggreviated the wound, but it will heal properly." So commanding, I always saw him as cold and meek. As if he was trying to push it all in and just follow orders. Like he didn't want to be there, like he was lost and trapped inside the Darkness. Poor kid, I used to think. But hate him nonetheless. "He won't be able to walk for another few days, and he shouldn't be running around for any length of time for another couple of weeks. It could tear."
"...what the hell am I doing here?" I growled, my voice was dry and rough.
Why haven't you killed me yet, Mastermind?
/'All in good time, Kudoh.'/ The nasal teased and I shook my head, as if doing so could get rid of the tingle the telepathic message sent down my spine.
Mastermind's head tilted further to the side and if anything the smile grew wider and more amused. "We found you bleeding and disorientated at the site we were contracted to demolish. Stupid teenagers, can't have them ruining Rosenkratz name, you know. Of course... the place was already a 'smoldering pile of shit' by the time we got there. Funny how Weiss and Schwartz so often coincide."
"That. Doesn't. Explain. Why. I'm. Here."
The European frowned, his smile sliding off his face like water from a glass. "I scanned the area, kitten, Weiss wasn't anywhere near your useless body. Would you rather I have left you there to die?"
"I would have expected it."
I know Schwartz. Bastards. They don't do anything out of the kindness of their heart. What do they want for me? Information, duh. Fucking Kudoh.
Cruel jade eyes narrowed. "You," Mastermind spat, and his voice was venom. "know nothhing of Schwartz."
In a blur of motion he was gone. That infamous speed, supernatural, unfair... My breathing slowed down and I realized I was left in a strange room with the only member of Schwartz I almost considered halfway human. His expression had darkened, if that was possible, and in slow, calculated movements he turned away and left the room.
888
Hey Aya? Did I ever tell you about the time I blacked out for six hours after a mission?
No... I didn't tell you that.
I came home and looked haggered and you all assumed that I went drinking and dancing afterwards. Like I normally do. Yeah, I looked like shit, but you didn't think much of it. I didn't want to tell you the truth... that the last thing I remembered was trailing Berserker down the street, alone. They beat us to another target and killed the girl while they were at it. She looked like Asuka, like so many of them do, and I couldn't help myself. I wanted to beat that shit eating grin off that Irish fuck's face.
He stopped running when he caught the small sound of my footsteps, he turned... and that was the last thing I remembered.
Purple eyes.
I tried to convince myself that nothing happened. I went to a bar after that mission, drank too much, had a hangover. Everything felt fuzzy, like a hangover. Even the pain. But I knew... there was something else.
A few days later we were sitting in the mission room mulling over THEIR latest involvement in our mission plans. I was on the couch with Ken, I had the corner because he was laying on his back and taking up most of the two cushions. His head was leaning over the arm and I was smoking a cigarrette, glaring at the dart board that hung to the wall opposite me.
"I'm almost one-hundred percent certain they'll show up when we go to assassinate Toyoko Natsunumi." Omi was saying, he sat at his computer desk, spinning half circles in the small chair. "What are we going to do guys? They're going to kill us someday. We need a strategy and I'm all out of ideas."
Omi out of ideas, that was never a good sign. I rolled the cigarette around in my lips and breathed in on the bittersweet taste. I always hoped it would be that smoke that would kill me, not something else. "What are we suppose to do?" I asked, "There's six of them and they have superhuman powers."
"Four." Aya grunted, he was sitting on the stairwell.
My gaze retreated from the dartboard, "Huh?"
I could feel Aya's cold steel attention on my back. "Four. There's four members of Schwartz."
"Yeah..." I replied slowly, not catching on.
"You said 'six.'"
Ken sat up, legs clunking down on the floorboard with a jutting thud. He hunched over so that his arms were resting on his thighs and leaned close to me. Omi stopped half-spinning in his chair.
I was confused. "I did?"
"Yohji..."
"Huh. My mistake. I meant four. Sorry guys." Maybe I was just out of it.
Maybe...
888
"He's on the mend, huh? Guess I'm glad to see he's going to make it..."
That strange quiet voice... It woke me from my slumber. I wasn't even aware I had passed out again and that strange disorientation, that loss of time was starting to irritate me. Three weeks, damn. I sat up a little, but the pain in my side wouldn't allow much movement. The room was pitch Black. I couldn't even see my legs in front of me. Maybe they had been sawed off...
Schwartz bastards...
"Well," Another voice, I recognized this one. The impatient sigh of the Prodigy. How many people were in this room? Why couldn't they turn on a damn light. "we know he's not going to die. We should return him to Weiss. Damn Schuldig."
Schoo... Dig.
Wait. Return to Weiss? They were going to just let me go? No, that had to be a trick. Was Weiss still alive? Maybe... maybe they'd let me loose and follow me back to our hideout. Oh god... no, wait. Wait. Mastermind was some kind of mind reader, right? Couldn't he have just plucked that information out of my head. Damn it.
"Not yet," a quick rasp, one that belonged to that crazy ass Berserker. "too dangerous."
I tried to sit up again, tried to force my eyes to see something, SOMETHING, in this darkness. I bite back a cry at the sharp pain from movement and gave up. My body sunk into the cushions below us, cotton. It made my skin crawl. This wasn't my bed. I wasn't suppose to be here. I wasn't suppose to be here...
"But..." Prodigy's voice cried, actually dramatic. "Doesn't he make...?"
I don't think they were in the room, probably standing outside the door. Or maybe behind a window, like one of those two-way mirrors they have at the police station. I've been behind them before, back in my detective days. They sounded muffled... but just a little. Why was it so Black in here? Since they were talking about me, I figured they must have been intending to make some sort of enterance, and for the sake of wanting to hear any useful information they might let slip out, I quickly rearranged myself into a sleeping position, ready to play possseum.
"It's okay," that quiet voice said. "I don't mind. I guess."
"What about Crawford?" The telekentic asked, annoyance back in his tone.
There was a pause between the three speakers, as if the other two were considering their answer carefully. Or consulting with someone... Finally the quiet one spoke. "He said Schuldig can do whatever he wants with Kudoh. He doesn't have any plans."
The Prodigy sighed and I could hear him shuffle around with something. "I wish Crawford would be more assertive in this matter. I don't like him being here. It makes me nervous."
The quiet one chuckled and I wondered why the Berserker wasn't talking as well. "You're usually the calm one. Look at me, do I look nervous?"
Then again, the Berserker didn't talk much anyway.
Instead of answering, Prodigy changed the subject. "When will the Yukigawa contact be finished?" My ears perked at that. Yukigawa? But the named didn't sound familiar. Way to go, detective.
"Next Monday," Berserker answered. He sounded more clear and rational than I remembered. "Don't talk about it. He might be listening."
His replies were still short and painfully to the point.
I turned my head to face away from what I thought was the door way, closing my eyes. Pretend to be alseep, pretend to be asleep. Should I snore? Don't be fucking ridiculous, Kudoh.
A short laugh from the quiet one. "Ooh, now I feel nervous." A slight pause in conversation then more shuffling. My stomach was beginning to knot in anticipation. "Hmm, it's almost ten. Time for cartoons. Come on, Farf."
The door was pushed open and it took everything inside me to not jump in fright. I guess my best wasn't good enough though, because I heard Prodigy pause in the door way and regard me with suspicion. I sighed and opened my eyes, the act was over. The light turned on and I winced at that. The room filled suddenly with a dull white glow and for the first time in three weeks I was able to take in my surroundings. My prison.
And I was creeped out.
White to the point of almost being morbid, the only thing in this room beside a bed and a simple two stacked ivory dresser was rows... and rows... and ROWS... of unmarked video cassettes, all neatly stacked into built in shelves that covered the walls of this very, very sterile room. Was this a bedroom, I wondered. Or had they just shoved a mattress into a storage area. A tv set was hung from a wall and it looked lonely and black in the rooms whiteness. A chill creeped up my spine, this just looked... weird.
What was this? Did Schwartz film all their kills or something?
Prodigy sighed and pulled a chair from a walk-in closet I hadn't noticed before. He placed it close to the bed and perched on its side. "How are you feeling, Kudoh?" He asked, after a moment of silent examination.
"Why are you keeping me here?"
Prodigy turned and placed the medical kit he had carried in on the side of the mattress. He thumbed open the box and neatly inspected the contents. "It's what Schuldig wants." Was his practical, detached response. "I don't agree with it, you know. I think we should have left you there."
To die...
Shool-Dig?
My eyes widened as Prodigy pulled something dangerous looking out of the box. It was a klunky device with a thick back and a narrow end. My body was locked in place by psychic hands and I could do nothing but squeeze my eyes shut as he stuck the instrument into my ear. I waited, expecting an electric shock, or wires to reach out and latch onto my brain. I jumped liked a cat when the thing in my ear gave a loud, hollow click. Oh god, was I just injected with something?
Prodigy pulled back the device and studied it's head. There was a queer, almost amused expression on his face. "Well... according to this thermometer your body temperature is normal."
Yohji, you fucking idiot...
Nagi rolled his eyes and put the thermometer back in the box.
Must... save... face...
"Is this..." I asked, "Is this Schwartz headquarters?"
Brilliant.
The question caused the boy to freeze and he looked up from the kit a bit startled. I felt anxious at the expression, like I asked the wrong question and would not be allowed to pass go and collect my two hundred dollars this round. Nagi's face melted back into a light mask of amusement again. "I guess you could cal it that. This is our apartment. This is where we sleep... eat... watch tv... plot evil."
Stupid.
"So... why, then?"
Another sigh. "I told you, it's Schuldig. Apparently he doesn't want to see you die." Schu-dig. "And for the record, I don't really give a shit if you live or die. Now don't throw a bitch fit, I'm going to pull back these blankets and check your wound." With that he grabbed my sheets and rolled them away. The hairs on the back of my neck curled at the invasion, the vulenrability, the cold air.
"Do I get to go home after this...?"
You want me to lead you to Weiss, you know you do, you little shit. What am I doing here?
"You can go join Yamanaki's Three Ring Circus for all I care after you're healed up." Prodigy quipped, he produced a can of balm from the medical kit and coated a large q-tip with it. "The wound looks okay, I guess. You shouldn't be walking for awhile though. That kinda pisses me off, the sooner you get out of here the better. I think Dark Zoilo wants his room back."
Dark Zoo-low? So this was someone's room... I looked around again at the bleak collection of hundreds and hundreds of unmarked video tapes and shuddered. Prodigy took that as an affect of the cool balm he was smothing over my disgusting scarred side and withdrew from touching me.
What was going on here? Schwartz was plotting to use me somehow, I knew it. KNEW IT! Mastermind was probably somewhere close now, invading my subconcious, programming thoughts into my head that I wouldn't realize were there until it was too late. Soon I'd be one of them, one of the killers of Darkness, I'd go after my friends because I was brainwashed and didn't even realize it. I was going to become Schwartz puppet... that's what they were doing with me. I knew it. Knew it...
Wait.
Names. They were giving me names? I never had names before. Shool-dig and Dark... Dark Zi...
"Schuldig." I said outloud.
Prodigy shut the medical kit and looked up. "What about him?"
"That's Mastermind's name?"
Prodigy gave me a daft look, this kid was good at making people feel stupid. "Yeah..." Then he did something really frightening. He smiled. "Oh my god... you didn't know his name? Holy crap! How shitty is Weiss' intelligence? His name was listed on Takatori's employee list. Good grief... do you know my name?"
I felt like I would offend him if I didn't. "Schuldig is Mastermind... then Dark Zigo is Berserker and... Oracle is...Craw..."
Prodigy shook his head, "Berserk is Farfarello. Oracle is Crawford, well, Brad, but everyone calls him Crawford. If they know what's good for him. Dark Zoilo is our sixth, you've never met him. Or at least, you shouldn't have."
My mouth dropped slightly, processing this new information.
"Scwartz got a sixth..." This means... Weiss was out numbered. Oh god, Weiss was outnumbered. And overpowered, and they had six? And he was wounded and useless and captive and probably being brained washed, and now Schwartz had a sixth?
"What do you mean 'got'" Prodigy asked, and I realized I still didn't know his real name. The kid stood up and walked to the door. The cold feeling in the pit of my stomach grew. "He's been a part of our teams for years. You just never noticed. Get some sleep Kudoh, I want you to get well and get out of here."
Schwartz had six...
Prodigy...
'There's six of them...'
Mastermind. Schuldig.
'Four.'
Oracle. Crawford. Or Brad.
'Yeah...'
Berserker. Farfarello.
'You said six.'
Dark Zoilo...
Prodigy, Schuldig, Farfarello, Dark Zoilo, and Crawford. But that only made five.
The lights turned off and I was left alone in the Darkness.
888
AUTHOR NOTe: The next chapter will be from Schuldig's POV then go back to Yohji's from there.