NOTE: takes place after ep. 15, ultimately schuXfarf YAOI. You dun like, ES
TU PROBLEMA!
Disclaima: No. I didn't write the show. I would have had a better plot line, and fewer shirts.
Midnight Garden
by kye
Chapter One
It didn't start on purpose. Not for me, anyway. But I think, sometimes...I think that maybe it was what he wanted all along. I don't know why; I wouldn't dream of trying to understand him, his thoughts, his ways, his reasons. All I know is that once it started, it couldn't be stopped, not by anyone. Including me.
I was stupid, to begin with. If I hadn't screwed up...well, no point in hindsight, is there?
It was planned from the beginning, my meeting with Weiss. They wanted to get me back for little Miss Takatori. I was fine with that. They wanted to fight me, I just wanted to fight. It all worked out. If Schwarz just happened to slip up, and let it be known that I liked to hang out in a certain park at a certain time of night (yeah right), then who could say it was any more than coincidence? That their deaths were anything other than self-defence?
The problem was, Weiss had, inconcievably, come up with a decent plan. Part of Weiss, anyway. As far as half of them knew, it was a regular mission: chase after the bad guys (me) using regular weapons, showing off regular moves, and waiting, as usual, until the end to go into Angsters' Choice mode. Unfortunately for me, good ole' Youji-kun had decided to be creative. He knew I'd hear their minds coming. And somehow he knew how best to block it.
I waited for them, hidden in the dark of a park, as was traditional. Silence, blessed silence, left the air clear and unstifling. They were too far away for me to hear them, but I was waiting, like a great cat behind a tree. Waiting for the gazelle to appear. I was at ease; I could tell their distance from the tone of their thoughts. If I couldn't hear them yet, they were at least at the other side of the park.
I didn't count on anything unusual. Strike one.
It hit me so hard that I couldn't breathe for a moment. The terror, the disbelief, the horror they shared overcame me, waves of it as high as the skyscrapers. Images: Youji talking like he always did, or so their minds told me, and then silence.
"No more," came his whisper, their confusion.
And then...the gun. It came from somewhere in his coat. Not unusual. Nothing wrong. Until he pointed it at himself.
"Yoh-!" started the young one. Omi.
The shot echoed in their thoughts like an earthquake, terrible and enormous. He went down fast and hard, and Weiss was left gaping. Then screaming. The power of their shock was like a lightening bolt. All I could see was red.
Their thoughts had caught hold and paralyzed me. I had fallen into their trap. For somehow, in all the fuss, I had missed that only three of them were there. And the fourth...Fujimiya Aya...
I flinched as a hand wrapped around my mouth. From around the fingers I caught a glimpse of glinting steel. [Turn around, turn around, you have to fight him!] my mind urged me.
But it was too late, and I was too distracted. There was no way that I could fight, caught offguard and dazed by the thoughts of the other Weiss. I gave one feeble show of resistance before I knew for certain that I had lost. The glitter I had seen moved up and towards me, and that was it: Fujimiya's famous katana was sheathed,and it wasn't in leather. My shoulder screamed, sending even more sparks across my vision. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing my pain, since I knew he yearned for it. I swallowed hard, jaw clamped shut, and tasted blood. His blade slipping out of my shoulder choked me, and when its hilt hit my skull, I dropped like a stone. Faintly, I heard Youji's apologetic thoughts as he tried to wipe the red paint off his coat.
They hadn't left me for dead. I found that out when I woke up, tied to a chair with a searing headache and a throb in my shoulder. The throb got my attention, and, curious, I rolled my head very carefully to one side so I could see my injury. It was untended and stiff. A long stretch of my coat was stained the dark red of cherries. I experimented with moving it and quickly gave up, letting myself sag against the hard wood.
It wasn't as though I had much room to move in, anyway.
I didn't think I had made much noise waking up, but something had compelled Weiss to come in at that moment. Now, Weiss is usually far from intimidating to someone of my strength. At this particular moment, however, the eyes that met mine sent frissions down my spine. It was hard to choose which of them was the most frightening. Youji looked smug, like a house cat who's caught a pesky moth. I didn't like being a moth. Yet if I ignored him, there was still Aya's stony glare, and Omi's unusual hatred, and Ken's casual, unblinking stare. I couldn't win. Couldn't. The thought was terrifying, and I wasn't used to terror.
"Will they come for you?" Aya said bluntly. I caught his eye and glared into it, wishing I had the strength to kill him. But I didn't, and so my gaze dropped. Youji smirked.
"Will they come?" he echoed Aya.
"...I don't know," I said, and it was the truth. If a member of Weiss fell, the others would come for him. But I wasn't in Weiss. I wasn't a white knight. I was black. I was the true Night. The kind of night that holds blindness, and secrets, and evil.
Night's creatures don't often cherish loyalties.
"In that case," suggested Ken, "maybe you could tell us where to find them."
"Yeah right."
"No, really," he insisted. "You haven't got anything to lose. They're not your friends, right?" I couldn't contradict that, really. "And besides, it'll save you one hell of a beating."
"No it won't," I muttered, thinking of the prizes that were usually doled out to traitors. I hadn't meant them to hear, but hear they did.
"What kind of team would punish its own people?" Youji snorted. "Sure, you deserve it if anyone does, but if it were me, I damn well wouldn't stick around."
"Piss off."
"Hey, hey, no need for that. It's just an opinion. But maybe you're a glutton for punishment. Is that it?" I saw the fist coming towards me and dove into the nearest mind to soften the blow. Unfortunately, the nearest mind was Omi's. His thoughts were directed at me, and they burned with a hatred so powerful it should have killed him. Confused pictures of family- Reiji, Shuichi, his brothers, and especially Ouka- skittered through his flaming thoughts. It was too painful. I jumped back out just in time to feel the full force of Youji's fist.
My head snapped back with the punch. I grimaced and looked up, only to see him staring intently at me. His expression made me edgy; it was twice as catty as it had been before. Instinct kicked in, and I looked at what he was thinking.
I sucked in a breath when I realized what he knew, and what idea it had given him.
"I think my friend has something to say to you," Youji said, tossing a glance at the stonelike Omi. "You know what it is. Hell, you're the one playing tourist in his brain. You saw it. You know just what he thinks of his sister's murderer. Don't you think he should get revenge?"
Normally I wouldn't have worried about Omi Tsukiyono as being overly sadistic, but under the circumstances, I felt rightfully concerned.
[shit.]
He was very, very quiet. That was the most unusual thing about him. If he had cried and shouted and threatened, I would have had neither respect for nor fear of him. But the whole time, he had been silent, focused on only one thing. My pain.
It had been going on for a very long time, or at least I felt so. I was trapped in a limbo: too concious to pass out and not concious enough to protect myself. Omi was a ruthless torturer, but also a careful one. He never let me cross that line into blissful blackness.
I was hurt badly, to be frank. If they had untied me then, and said to get out on pain of death, I would have had to die. I was hiding from the pain by counting broken bones, which were in no small supply. I was helpless. Worse, I was tired. Little kid, hopeless, wretched tired.
[help me] I said, to I didn't know who. I mouthed the words accidentally. One of the three spectre-like spectators flashed a smile.
"Help you? You're on the wrong team for that, bud." Then something wiped the grin off his face and the smile from his voice. "Whoa!" He jumped backwards, bumping into his friends, as a creature they had expected not to expect appeared from no where. He glared at them appraisingly through his one eye, deciding whether to count them prey or let them go for a time. Then, with a quick glance in my direction, he made up his mind.
They were insulted, I think, that he turned his back on them. He ignored them, and shoved Omi aside like a speck of dirt that had gotten in his way. I saw, through blurred eyes, the young Weiss's sense of control abandon him, saw him fall from power into extreme danger. Death breathed down his neck. But it wouldn't bite. Not today. He was safe today.
Farfarello, ignoring them completely, cut me loose, then caught me with a remarkable show of reflexes. I looked at him, and he looked back. I tried to understand, was about to ask why...except that it was him. His reasons were his own, not the kind to pry into. I settled for gratefulness.
He turned away from me and crouched down.
"On," he said. I let myself fall against him. He supported me with one arm, wriggling catlike to adjust my weight over him. Shooting the Weiss a final warning glare, he backed through the door, then turned and ran.
Okeedokee..this is my first WK fic, so I'm not sure how it looks or whether I'm gonna write more. It'll depend on reviews. Yeah, it's gonna be yaoi if it goes anywhere. Also a first for me, besides brief suggestion in Inner Bunny. So be kind, okay?? And thank my muse Marc for his lovely angsting. ^^ Marc: whatever.
Disclaima: No. I didn't write the show. I would have had a better plot line, and fewer shirts.
Midnight Garden
by kye
Chapter One
It didn't start on purpose. Not for me, anyway. But I think, sometimes...I think that maybe it was what he wanted all along. I don't know why; I wouldn't dream of trying to understand him, his thoughts, his ways, his reasons. All I know is that once it started, it couldn't be stopped, not by anyone. Including me.
I was stupid, to begin with. If I hadn't screwed up...well, no point in hindsight, is there?
It was planned from the beginning, my meeting with Weiss. They wanted to get me back for little Miss Takatori. I was fine with that. They wanted to fight me, I just wanted to fight. It all worked out. If Schwarz just happened to slip up, and let it be known that I liked to hang out in a certain park at a certain time of night (yeah right), then who could say it was any more than coincidence? That their deaths were anything other than self-defence?
The problem was, Weiss had, inconcievably, come up with a decent plan. Part of Weiss, anyway. As far as half of them knew, it was a regular mission: chase after the bad guys (me) using regular weapons, showing off regular moves, and waiting, as usual, until the end to go into Angsters' Choice mode. Unfortunately for me, good ole' Youji-kun had decided to be creative. He knew I'd hear their minds coming. And somehow he knew how best to block it.
I waited for them, hidden in the dark of a park, as was traditional. Silence, blessed silence, left the air clear and unstifling. They were too far away for me to hear them, but I was waiting, like a great cat behind a tree. Waiting for the gazelle to appear. I was at ease; I could tell their distance from the tone of their thoughts. If I couldn't hear them yet, they were at least at the other side of the park.
I didn't count on anything unusual. Strike one.
It hit me so hard that I couldn't breathe for a moment. The terror, the disbelief, the horror they shared overcame me, waves of it as high as the skyscrapers. Images: Youji talking like he always did, or so their minds told me, and then silence.
"No more," came his whisper, their confusion.
And then...the gun. It came from somewhere in his coat. Not unusual. Nothing wrong. Until he pointed it at himself.
"Yoh-!" started the young one. Omi.
The shot echoed in their thoughts like an earthquake, terrible and enormous. He went down fast and hard, and Weiss was left gaping. Then screaming. The power of their shock was like a lightening bolt. All I could see was red.
Their thoughts had caught hold and paralyzed me. I had fallen into their trap. For somehow, in all the fuss, I had missed that only three of them were there. And the fourth...Fujimiya Aya...
I flinched as a hand wrapped around my mouth. From around the fingers I caught a glimpse of glinting steel. [Turn around, turn around, you have to fight him!] my mind urged me.
But it was too late, and I was too distracted. There was no way that I could fight, caught offguard and dazed by the thoughts of the other Weiss. I gave one feeble show of resistance before I knew for certain that I had lost. The glitter I had seen moved up and towards me, and that was it: Fujimiya's famous katana was sheathed,and it wasn't in leather. My shoulder screamed, sending even more sparks across my vision. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing my pain, since I knew he yearned for it. I swallowed hard, jaw clamped shut, and tasted blood. His blade slipping out of my shoulder choked me, and when its hilt hit my skull, I dropped like a stone. Faintly, I heard Youji's apologetic thoughts as he tried to wipe the red paint off his coat.
They hadn't left me for dead. I found that out when I woke up, tied to a chair with a searing headache and a throb in my shoulder. The throb got my attention, and, curious, I rolled my head very carefully to one side so I could see my injury. It was untended and stiff. A long stretch of my coat was stained the dark red of cherries. I experimented with moving it and quickly gave up, letting myself sag against the hard wood.
It wasn't as though I had much room to move in, anyway.
I didn't think I had made much noise waking up, but something had compelled Weiss to come in at that moment. Now, Weiss is usually far from intimidating to someone of my strength. At this particular moment, however, the eyes that met mine sent frissions down my spine. It was hard to choose which of them was the most frightening. Youji looked smug, like a house cat who's caught a pesky moth. I didn't like being a moth. Yet if I ignored him, there was still Aya's stony glare, and Omi's unusual hatred, and Ken's casual, unblinking stare. I couldn't win. Couldn't. The thought was terrifying, and I wasn't used to terror.
"Will they come for you?" Aya said bluntly. I caught his eye and glared into it, wishing I had the strength to kill him. But I didn't, and so my gaze dropped. Youji smirked.
"Will they come?" he echoed Aya.
"...I don't know," I said, and it was the truth. If a member of Weiss fell, the others would come for him. But I wasn't in Weiss. I wasn't a white knight. I was black. I was the true Night. The kind of night that holds blindness, and secrets, and evil.
Night's creatures don't often cherish loyalties.
"In that case," suggested Ken, "maybe you could tell us where to find them."
"Yeah right."
"No, really," he insisted. "You haven't got anything to lose. They're not your friends, right?" I couldn't contradict that, really. "And besides, it'll save you one hell of a beating."
"No it won't," I muttered, thinking of the prizes that were usually doled out to traitors. I hadn't meant them to hear, but hear they did.
"What kind of team would punish its own people?" Youji snorted. "Sure, you deserve it if anyone does, but if it were me, I damn well wouldn't stick around."
"Piss off."
"Hey, hey, no need for that. It's just an opinion. But maybe you're a glutton for punishment. Is that it?" I saw the fist coming towards me and dove into the nearest mind to soften the blow. Unfortunately, the nearest mind was Omi's. His thoughts were directed at me, and they burned with a hatred so powerful it should have killed him. Confused pictures of family- Reiji, Shuichi, his brothers, and especially Ouka- skittered through his flaming thoughts. It was too painful. I jumped back out just in time to feel the full force of Youji's fist.
My head snapped back with the punch. I grimaced and looked up, only to see him staring intently at me. His expression made me edgy; it was twice as catty as it had been before. Instinct kicked in, and I looked at what he was thinking.
I sucked in a breath when I realized what he knew, and what idea it had given him.
"I think my friend has something to say to you," Youji said, tossing a glance at the stonelike Omi. "You know what it is. Hell, you're the one playing tourist in his brain. You saw it. You know just what he thinks of his sister's murderer. Don't you think he should get revenge?"
Normally I wouldn't have worried about Omi Tsukiyono as being overly sadistic, but under the circumstances, I felt rightfully concerned.
[shit.]
He was very, very quiet. That was the most unusual thing about him. If he had cried and shouted and threatened, I would have had neither respect for nor fear of him. But the whole time, he had been silent, focused on only one thing. My pain.
It had been going on for a very long time, or at least I felt so. I was trapped in a limbo: too concious to pass out and not concious enough to protect myself. Omi was a ruthless torturer, but also a careful one. He never let me cross that line into blissful blackness.
I was hurt badly, to be frank. If they had untied me then, and said to get out on pain of death, I would have had to die. I was hiding from the pain by counting broken bones, which were in no small supply. I was helpless. Worse, I was tired. Little kid, hopeless, wretched tired.
[help me] I said, to I didn't know who. I mouthed the words accidentally. One of the three spectre-like spectators flashed a smile.
"Help you? You're on the wrong team for that, bud." Then something wiped the grin off his face and the smile from his voice. "Whoa!" He jumped backwards, bumping into his friends, as a creature they had expected not to expect appeared from no where. He glared at them appraisingly through his one eye, deciding whether to count them prey or let them go for a time. Then, with a quick glance in my direction, he made up his mind.
They were insulted, I think, that he turned his back on them. He ignored them, and shoved Omi aside like a speck of dirt that had gotten in his way. I saw, through blurred eyes, the young Weiss's sense of control abandon him, saw him fall from power into extreme danger. Death breathed down his neck. But it wouldn't bite. Not today. He was safe today.
Farfarello, ignoring them completely, cut me loose, then caught me with a remarkable show of reflexes. I looked at him, and he looked back. I tried to understand, was about to ask why...except that it was him. His reasons were his own, not the kind to pry into. I settled for gratefulness.
He turned away from me and crouched down.
"On," he said. I let myself fall against him. He supported me with one arm, wriggling catlike to adjust my weight over him. Shooting the Weiss a final warning glare, he backed through the door, then turned and ran.
Okeedokee..this is my first WK fic, so I'm not sure how it looks or whether I'm gonna write more. It'll depend on reviews. Yeah, it's gonna be yaoi if it goes anywhere. Also a first for me, besides brief suggestion in Inner Bunny. So be kind, okay?? And thank my muse Marc for his lovely angsting. ^^ Marc: whatever.