Midnight Garden
by Kye
Chapter Seven
---------------
Just before he hit the ground, Farf caught him. I think he could have caught him earlier if he wanted to, but Farf doesn't always want what makes sense to other people.
I sort of trotted over to where Farf was bent down to see if Schu was all right. He probably wasn't-- usually if he said something completely confusing, it meant something important, and important things didn't tend to be good for him. I set down on my heels next to Farf.
"Schu?" I said. He sucked in a breath, sat up, and opened his eyes.
"Shit," he said.
"Okay," I agreed. "What--" Brad crowded past me in a dispassionate and leaderly way, bumping into me just hard enough to knock me over from my precarious position.
ow, I thought. But I didn't really want to get the Crawfish annoyed with me, so I kept quiet.
"What happened?" asked Brad briskly. Schu glared at him.
"And you couldn't just let Nagi finish saying the same thing?" He rubbed his forehead with the back of a hand. When he dropped the hand to his side, Farf grabbed it. I noticed this with some interest; Farf had been acting very...possessive, or at the least, protective, since ending the Omi Torture Game three weeks before. It was what had caused me to come up with the 'crazy boyfriend' bit, something I now truly regretted saying.
"No. Answer the question, please, Schuldich." Schu sighed irritatedly.
"All right, I'll tell ya. Eszett's pissed off that Takatori screwed up, and they think we're partly to blame, and now they've sent one Mister Super-Talent over the big blue water to do away with the failures." He bared his teeth a little. I was beginning to be impressed; for what had started off as a very good evening, Schu was proving very good at maintaining a horrible mood.
"Nags, stop thinking so loud. My head feels like shit already, without you crowding up the place."
"What's wrong with your shields?" I asked. He didn't usually have trouble blocking us out, being as familiar with our minds as he was.
"Bastard screwed them up." He reclaimed his hand from Farf and leaned his head against it. "So if you don't mind, please shut the hell up." I didn't answer, since that would have meant doing something that certainly wasn't shutting the hell up. Brad didn't have the same qualms.
"Are we in danger, immediate or otherwise?" he demanded. "Who is this adversary, exactly?"
"Bradley, you shmuck, what do you think? If he can knock me out by simply visiting my brain- which he did, by the way, completely on purpose- then I'd say yes, we're in danger. I don't know how immediate. He didn't exactly give me an itinerary. And he didn't give me his name and address either, just in case you were wondering."
"Of course he didn't," replied Brad. "Don't be nonsensical." Schu growled.
"Bradley..." he said warningly. Brad sighed.
"All right, all right. We can talk about this at home. Come now, get up." He looked down at the three of us from under his glasses. He was the fearless leader. He couldn't lower himself to sitting down like the rest of us (no pun intended). It was that kind of behavior that made us all hate him at times.
Farf grabbed Schu's hand again, unfurled in a single fluid motion, and carefully pulled Schu up after him. I rose on my own, dusting off the back of my pants. Without a word, Brad turned away, walking towards home. If it was a home.
Crawfish, I thought. Schu grimaced and shrugged.
"And there's nothing we can do about it," he said. "C'mon, let's go."
I followed him and Farf, feeling a lot more like a third wheel than a fellow disgruntled teammate; Farf hadn't let go of Schu's hand, and Schu wasn't complaining.
---------------------------------
Crawford reached the house only a few seconds before us, long enough to unlock the door and shut it behind him. I reopened it for us, complaining only in my head. Not that my silence did any good, considering my company.
"As our esteemed leader would say, don't sweat it, Nags," Schu said softly, grinning, I guess, at my creative insults. That was the good thing about Schuldich: even if we did get into fights, the rest of the time we were friends, good friends. Conspirators. Not that I didn't like Farf, but it was hard to be close to him without fearing for your future. Rarely he would say something so sane you would forget he wasn't, and in those moments he could be very likable. Then, of course, it would turn back to God, this, and blood, that. He wasn't exactly a prize investment in stable relationships. It sort of made me wonder why Schu was letting himself get dragged into one. A relationship, that is. Because even if he didn't see that he was, I could. I'm not stupid. Then, none of us are. The job doesn't allow it.
"I thought I'd warned you about that kind of thought," Schu said, interrupting.
"And I said to keep out of my brain," I returned mildly. I had no real worries about another argument stemming from what I said-- we'd had it out for the night, and anything else we said would be taken in the best humor possible.
"Don't count on it," said Schu in mock-warning.
"Of course not," I said. I flicked on the lights, which Brad had kindly neglected to do, and kicked off my shoes. Shoes always went on a mat on the lowered part of the floor, unless you were Schu, in which case they went wherever you did. It was an infuriating habit that he deliberately didn't break.
I stepped onto the carpeted floor of the main level and into the livingroom. It was wide and open for a Japanese apartment, and comfortably housed two sofas and a television. It branched into the kitchen on the right, and a doorway straight ahead led to the bedrooms and bathroom. They, too, were large for their location. I started towards my room when, from the kitchen, a voice halted me.
"Not yet, Nagi," said Brad, emerging from behind the island with a coffee cup. A burst of steam puffed out of the kettle, wreathing Brad's face in mist. His glasses fogged up. "Stay put," he said blindly, fumbling for the burner's switch. It met his hand, and he clicked it off. "Schuldich, do you still want that drink?"
"What the hell," said Schu. "But please make it real beer. If you feed me that bird-piss wine one more time..."
"All right, all right," interrupted Brad. He disappeared behind the island again, digging for Schu's beloved German beer. Schu, meanwhile, flung himself onto the fluffier of our two couches, stretching out so that he covered it from end to end. Farf sat on the floor nearbye and leaned against one end of the sofa, staring out into the unlit hallway.
Drinks in hand, Brad approached, at once assuming his most condescending and leaderish tone.
"Now, Schuldich, I know you're going to complain, but I absolutely must know everything about your encounter with this...being...Eszett has sent after us. It is of vital imp--" He stopped short, having just looked down at the sofa where Schu had put himself. I stifled a laugh at Brad's face- he really did earn the name Crawfish. His nose wrinkled in annoyance, and he set the drinks down on the end-table with a clunk.
"Impertinence," he said, a word I had never thought I'd hear a grown man utter.
Schu rolled over and began to snore.
----------------------
A.N.: Ooh, I quite liked that one. Nagi's fun to write. ^^ I like giving him a sense of humor.
Rika: Barely! when am I going to get a whole story, huh?!
Kye: ;_; Even my nice muses aren't nice to me...
Marc: Not even any angsting...my life is worthless... *tries to jump off cliff*
kye: *ties marc to a chair far away from high places* okeedok, everboddy ...next time, then...if i'm still alive...
by Kye
Chapter Seven
---------------
Just before he hit the ground, Farf caught him. I think he could have caught him earlier if he wanted to, but Farf doesn't always want what makes sense to other people.
I sort of trotted over to where Farf was bent down to see if Schu was all right. He probably wasn't-- usually if he said something completely confusing, it meant something important, and important things didn't tend to be good for him. I set down on my heels next to Farf.
"Schu?" I said. He sucked in a breath, sat up, and opened his eyes.
"Shit," he said.
"Okay," I agreed. "What--" Brad crowded past me in a dispassionate and leaderly way, bumping into me just hard enough to knock me over from my precarious position.
ow, I thought. But I didn't really want to get the Crawfish annoyed with me, so I kept quiet.
"What happened?" asked Brad briskly. Schu glared at him.
"And you couldn't just let Nagi finish saying the same thing?" He rubbed his forehead with the back of a hand. When he dropped the hand to his side, Farf grabbed it. I noticed this with some interest; Farf had been acting very...possessive, or at the least, protective, since ending the Omi Torture Game three weeks before. It was what had caused me to come up with the 'crazy boyfriend' bit, something I now truly regretted saying.
"No. Answer the question, please, Schuldich." Schu sighed irritatedly.
"All right, I'll tell ya. Eszett's pissed off that Takatori screwed up, and they think we're partly to blame, and now they've sent one Mister Super-Talent over the big blue water to do away with the failures." He bared his teeth a little. I was beginning to be impressed; for what had started off as a very good evening, Schu was proving very good at maintaining a horrible mood.
"Nags, stop thinking so loud. My head feels like shit already, without you crowding up the place."
"What's wrong with your shields?" I asked. He didn't usually have trouble blocking us out, being as familiar with our minds as he was.
"Bastard screwed them up." He reclaimed his hand from Farf and leaned his head against it. "So if you don't mind, please shut the hell up." I didn't answer, since that would have meant doing something that certainly wasn't shutting the hell up. Brad didn't have the same qualms.
"Are we in danger, immediate or otherwise?" he demanded. "Who is this adversary, exactly?"
"Bradley, you shmuck, what do you think? If he can knock me out by simply visiting my brain- which he did, by the way, completely on purpose- then I'd say yes, we're in danger. I don't know how immediate. He didn't exactly give me an itinerary. And he didn't give me his name and address either, just in case you were wondering."
"Of course he didn't," replied Brad. "Don't be nonsensical." Schu growled.
"Bradley..." he said warningly. Brad sighed.
"All right, all right. We can talk about this at home. Come now, get up." He looked down at the three of us from under his glasses. He was the fearless leader. He couldn't lower himself to sitting down like the rest of us (no pun intended). It was that kind of behavior that made us all hate him at times.
Farf grabbed Schu's hand again, unfurled in a single fluid motion, and carefully pulled Schu up after him. I rose on my own, dusting off the back of my pants. Without a word, Brad turned away, walking towards home. If it was a home.
Crawfish, I thought. Schu grimaced and shrugged.
"And there's nothing we can do about it," he said. "C'mon, let's go."
I followed him and Farf, feeling a lot more like a third wheel than a fellow disgruntled teammate; Farf hadn't let go of Schu's hand, and Schu wasn't complaining.
---------------------------------
Crawford reached the house only a few seconds before us, long enough to unlock the door and shut it behind him. I reopened it for us, complaining only in my head. Not that my silence did any good, considering my company.
"As our esteemed leader would say, don't sweat it, Nags," Schu said softly, grinning, I guess, at my creative insults. That was the good thing about Schuldich: even if we did get into fights, the rest of the time we were friends, good friends. Conspirators. Not that I didn't like Farf, but it was hard to be close to him without fearing for your future. Rarely he would say something so sane you would forget he wasn't, and in those moments he could be very likable. Then, of course, it would turn back to God, this, and blood, that. He wasn't exactly a prize investment in stable relationships. It sort of made me wonder why Schu was letting himself get dragged into one. A relationship, that is. Because even if he didn't see that he was, I could. I'm not stupid. Then, none of us are. The job doesn't allow it.
"I thought I'd warned you about that kind of thought," Schu said, interrupting.
"And I said to keep out of my brain," I returned mildly. I had no real worries about another argument stemming from what I said-- we'd had it out for the night, and anything else we said would be taken in the best humor possible.
"Don't count on it," said Schu in mock-warning.
"Of course not," I said. I flicked on the lights, which Brad had kindly neglected to do, and kicked off my shoes. Shoes always went on a mat on the lowered part of the floor, unless you were Schu, in which case they went wherever you did. It was an infuriating habit that he deliberately didn't break.
I stepped onto the carpeted floor of the main level and into the livingroom. It was wide and open for a Japanese apartment, and comfortably housed two sofas and a television. It branched into the kitchen on the right, and a doorway straight ahead led to the bedrooms and bathroom. They, too, were large for their location. I started towards my room when, from the kitchen, a voice halted me.
"Not yet, Nagi," said Brad, emerging from behind the island with a coffee cup. A burst of steam puffed out of the kettle, wreathing Brad's face in mist. His glasses fogged up. "Stay put," he said blindly, fumbling for the burner's switch. It met his hand, and he clicked it off. "Schuldich, do you still want that drink?"
"What the hell," said Schu. "But please make it real beer. If you feed me that bird-piss wine one more time..."
"All right, all right," interrupted Brad. He disappeared behind the island again, digging for Schu's beloved German beer. Schu, meanwhile, flung himself onto the fluffier of our two couches, stretching out so that he covered it from end to end. Farf sat on the floor nearbye and leaned against one end of the sofa, staring out into the unlit hallway.
Drinks in hand, Brad approached, at once assuming his most condescending and leaderish tone.
"Now, Schuldich, I know you're going to complain, but I absolutely must know everything about your encounter with this...being...Eszett has sent after us. It is of vital imp--" He stopped short, having just looked down at the sofa where Schu had put himself. I stifled a laugh at Brad's face- he really did earn the name Crawfish. His nose wrinkled in annoyance, and he set the drinks down on the end-table with a clunk.
"Impertinence," he said, a word I had never thought I'd hear a grown man utter.
Schu rolled over and began to snore.
----------------------
A.N.: Ooh, I quite liked that one. Nagi's fun to write. ^^ I like giving him a sense of humor.
Rika: Barely! when am I going to get a whole story, huh?!
Kye: ;_; Even my nice muses aren't nice to me...
Marc: Not even any angsting...my life is worthless... *tries to jump off cliff*
kye: *ties marc to a chair far away from high places* okeedok, everboddy ...next time, then...if i'm still alive...