Chapter 17
Aya watched with open amazement as the two dashed by. Yohji seemed perfectly pissed off. Farfarello obviously had his fun. ´Now I know why they call him crazy.´ Another crash.
"Oi!! Ken! Stop him!! He has my clothes!!"
"What?!"
//CRASH//
"Ken! Why didn't you stop him?!"
A groan was heard from Ken. The brunette had obviously not managed to evade the oncoming stampede in time.
"Yohji! What's the meaning of this?!"
"Don't ask, stupid. Help me! When I woke up my door was open and that – that thing was in my room like this!!" Cursing, the playboy hopped over Ken's fallen form and continued the chase. " And I had made sure to lock the damn thing!"
Brad raised an eyebrow at Schuldig. /You wouldn't happen to know how that door magically opened?/ It wasn't really a question; the precognitive knew his team members too well. Serving himself a cup of coffee, the redhead shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. /Bad little house-elves?/ Crawford rolled his eyes. /Rather a very familiar poltergeist./ Schuldig grinned. The American repressed the urge to sigh.
The comment about the cross-dressing had really upset the blonde. To make a long story short, the chase continued until the late morning hours, while everyone stayed at their comparatively safe areas. (Ken had somehow managed to flee into the kitchen after being run over for the third time, and Nagi was already used enough to his team-mates to not leave the room he was in until it was silent again.)
In between the ruckus they made, Aya had remembered Ken's strange comment about his car the day before. The redhead decided to have a look on it. A few moments later…
A scream of pure fury was heard just as Yohji had finally managed to get a hold on the Schwarz nut. Everybody flinched at the sound, the members of Weiß blanching since they knew its meaning. An angry Aya. A very pissed off Aya with a katana and nothing that could stop him within the next two hours… Oh dear. ^^;;
Behind them they could hear Crawford murmur a 'damn' under his breath.
Crazy lunatic with a favour for hurting himself or not, Farfarello was sane enough to do the only thing right in this situation. Tearing himself free of Yohji`s grip, he dashed into the next-best room and slammed its door shut behind his back, locking it twice.
Just seconds later an absolutely furious redheaded tornado was on the other side of the door, slamming his fists angrily against the door while shouting and miraculously _not_ managing to cut himself with his katana in his rage.
"K`so!! Open the goddamn door so that I can kill you, or I'll skin you until even you will feel the pain!!"
Yohji, Ken and Omi sweatdropped, wondering if it shouldn't be _Aya_ that should be called Berserker instead. Farfarello was luckily clever enough to find the obvious error in Aya`s reasoning and left the door locked. Nagi came into the kitchen and gave them all strange looks. Crawford and Schuldig continued doing what they had been doing before the red rage had sprung into action.
All in all, it was a pretty normal morning in the Koneko no Sumu Ie. (As normal as it could get, with all those guys.)
/Hmm… Shall we go and see what made dear Abyssinian that angry?/ Crawford frowned at him. /I think you already know what it is./ Schuldig grinned lazily. "Me? Whatever makes you think that?" The precog gave him a pointed look. Schuldig grinned. "All right. Farfie decorated his sports car a bit." The American sighed.
"Huh? Where ya going?"
Crawford stopped shortly to look at his redheaded team mate. "Taking a look on it." Schuldig gave him a puzzled look. "Hä? Ich dachte- [1]" Gesturing at the door, Crawford just shook his head. "I just saw that this is going to go on for a whole while." Schuldig grimaced. "Wait for me."
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Peals of laughter echoed through the building. Though seemingly bright, the apartment that made up the Estet snipers' base radiated a rather cold atmosphere. Despite the many windows that enabled the sunrays to illuminate every room with warm daylight and the bright furniture that was kept mostly in warm pastel hues and white (not that disinfectant hospital white, mind you!), it didn't really warm the rooms.
It was more as if the very walls themselves were radiating an air of hatred of everything alive within them… A creepy feeling.
Tannin stopped laughing long enough to take in Jilocasin´s disapproving expression. The telekinetic had naturally been curious about the others successions, and what she'd heard had just been too good to be true. The platinum- blonde grinned at her peeved companion.
"I told you that he'd be an interesting thing to play with."
Jilocasin glared at her, his usual easy-going manner forgotten momentarily. "That you did. But you forgot to tell me that they're an bunch of aliéné malade mental!!"
Tannin blinked. "A bunch of ali-what? Stop talking French, ya know no ass´s gonna understanding you if ya do that."
The French telepath sighed. /I said: a bunch of mentally disturbed lunatics./
"Oh. Did I really forget to mention that?^^ I though I had."
"YOU…!" Jilocasin barely resisted the urge to strangle the irritable woman – mostly because he knew that she'd wipe up the floor with him, should he ever try. Though, looking slightly crazy in a harmless way, Tannin wasn't.
Actually, the tattooed telekinetic was one of the most prized killers of the whole organisation, if not one of the most dangerous of the whole world. What made her that dangerous was neither her sometimes endearing quirkiness nor her total control of her talent, but the fact that the woman totally lacked any trace of conscious feeling of guilt. Doing one's shopping or killing a kid was totally the same for her, though he suspected that Tannin though the act of killing a bit more entertaining. But the point was that it didn't really matter. Reality and game were one and the same, and if you didn't like something then you changed it. –Or reset it.
Like said, it honestly didn't matter.
"Thanks to you, I have half of my team in intensive care and my car in repair."
An amused pale eyebrow rose, grey eyes glittering with the expressing of a hunter. "Your car? What did you do? Trying to participate in the great Tokyo street race?"
"I don't think that that's funny."
Tannin grinned. "I heard about it on the radio. Seems like they've shown you how things run in this part of the world." She paused. "Who was on the mission, anyways?"
Jilocasin frowned at her. "Kitten and Stiller. I kept a safe eye on them from the distance, but I was noticed."
Tannin pursed her lips. "The desaparecidos [2]? What happened?" The disapproval was evident in her voice. Tannin didn't think too high of that human fighting machines herself. Sure, she was willing to admit that they were quite useful, but really… She preferred doing the job herself.
"Kitten got some bruises, and Stiller has still to be readjusted. That experience weakened his mental system."
"Tasteless…"
"I know what you think of them. But they really are useful. If their program works properly, that is." Jilocasin took a sip of his glass of wine before continuing. "The power of will and imagination is really amazing. They can even survive and partially heal deadly wounds just by _not knowing_ that they're supposed to die."
"So Stiller still lives?" He rose an eyebrow at her. "I thought you didn't know anything about this." She grinned. "That's right. But I'm very nosy."
He sighed. That was just like her, making him retell the whole story while she already knew everything. Anyway…
"…That's right. He's alive. Though I don't think that he'll be able to do more than one last mission before finally falling apart. That merde- seer did a good job at ruining him. "
Tannin´s lips pursed again. "You poor man. Then you'll have to look for a proper replacement, ne? If that's the case… " She got up and made herself ready to go, brushing intentionally a bit closer to the other than necessary. Though that ´close´ didn't had to mean that it was a nice action in any sense. Not at all. " … I guess you can count yourself lucky for our little bet."
She turned in the doorway, watching him predatorily. "Remember? The winner gets all."
And with a malicious smirk, she left.
´Sometimes I wonder if I like her more when she's not sober…´
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One thing Crawford had to admit. Farfarello had done quite a good job to ruin Aya´s car. Next to him, Schuldig let out a low whistle. It really was amazing what their Irish companion could do… if he wanted to.
Seemingly lacking any proper tools, the lunatic had had to restrict himself to the lacquer, the tires and some smaller parts of the car's body. It didn't mean he hadn't had his fun. Examining the degraded Porsche, Schuldig grinned again. /Your dear Farfie can be quite an artist, don't you think so?/
Sighing inwardly softly, Crawford just shook his head, unsure whether he should be amused with the crazy albino's action or wondering what he'd done to be caught with such team-members.
He had to admit that the sheer thought of Farfarello breaking into Weiß´ garage and devastating their leader's car with graffiti was amusing. Probably it was also just because the crazy nut had somehow actually managed to hammer two little horns into the bonnet of the car accompanied with a half-scratched into the painting, half-smeared with blood well-legible writing. Kitty.
Except for that, the insane guy had left out the writing, concentrating rather on the skillful drawings all over the rest of the car's body. For somebody who'd had just three colours to use, his work was pretty good, as Schuldig had remarked. No wonder Aya had been furious.
Somehow the rejuvenated clairvoyant doubted that the redhead would be using that car any time soon.
Directing his thoughts on more important matters, Crawford turned to Schuldig. "You are going to have to get some things for us." The German stopped smirking for a moment and gave the other one a questioning look. "What things?" Crawford shrugged.
"The usual. Medication for Farfarello, computer equipment for Nagi-"
"-and some painkillers for your headache?"
The Oracle gave him a look. "Actually I wanted to say a pair of reserve glasses for me." Schuldig smirked. "Oops."
Stretching his long limbs, Schuldig gave himself time with his next question. "Not that I'd mind being let loose with pockets full of money, but why don't you do it yourself as always?"
Crawford presented him a feeble smirk. "Like this? I doubt that they'd give me half of the things."
Schuldig grinned. "True. So then I'm off. The money's in the same place as always?" Crawford nodded. The clairvoyant had in wise foresight (not talent related) stored small caches of money away in safe places, so that they wouldn't have to necessarily return to their apartment. A good move, as it proved now.
"Do that. I'll go and-" He sighed soundlessly, knowing that it was a large task he was going to burden himself with. "- keep themselves from making each other crazy." Schuldig laughed.
"Each other? Much luck!"
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When Crawford returned, the other members of Weiß had already managed to drag Aya away, pretending that he was needed in the shop. Farfarello had still locked himself in. Crawford sighed. Though such actions as this didn't occur often, it happened once in a while that the Irishman's mental state did a killer-loop. Such times always left Crawford with a banging headache, mainly because it was always left to him to put things straight again.
Crawford knocked against the door. No answer. "Farfarello, I know that you're there." "Why are you knocking then?" Crawford groaned inwardly. Seemed like the lunatic was in a good mode for joking. Sadly, few people shared his view of what's funny.
The Oracle was pretty sure that Farfarello thought that his little stunt with Kudou´s clothes had been funny. (Actually, he had been wrong. What _had_ been funny were the others reactions to it.) Farfarello was clever. Crawford knew that. Sometimes he just wished that the one-eyed man would decide whether he wanted to be sane or not.
"Farfarello"
Again no answer.
"Come out."
"No. He's gonna kill me."
Crawford rolled his eyes. ´Since when's he afraid to die?´ Swallowing his cynicism, the American repeated the question aloud.
Farfarello contemplated it. It was true that he really didn't fear death but being killed by a kitten… God would be dying with laughter. Hell, everybody would be dying with laughter after they'd heard this. He decided to keep the door locked. After all he wasn't stupid. And annoying Crawford was quite amusing; he had to agree with Schuldig there.
"So you won't come out?"
"No."
"All right…" Sighing, Crawford wandered off to retrieve Nagi and something that could be used as a substitute for a straightjacket. It was a pity they didn't bring one with them… He needed something with straps - a cloth a bit larger than needed, so that they could wrap Farfarello properly in. It also wouldn't do any harm if it was a somewhat resistant fabric, or else the lunatic would be free again in no time. A bit bigger, resistant, with straps…
Crawford immediately knew that it was a bad idea. –But that didn't keep him from putting it into action.
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When Schuldig finally came back from his shopping tour (I don't have to mention that he bought more with Crawford's money than necessary, do I? ^^;) the situation seemed to have calmed down a bit.
The redhead could feel the three members of Weiß working in the shop (the other one had to be in school he assumed) and the rest of his team in the apartment. ´Hmm. Farfie seems to amuse himself greatly.´ Already when he entered he could hear the Irish's mad giggles.
Schuldig winced at the shrill sound. "Hey, what's up? Farf sounds like he's going on the warpa-…" The following sight amazed him enough to render him speechless - and that certainly didn't happen often. His team-colleagues had managed to strap Farfarello into Abyssinian's cloak! Yeah, the leather one with the buckles on the arms and chest.
Farfarello was happily hopping up and down, babbling something about cross dressing and how it hurt god as well as making it as hard as possible for Brad to fasten to last straps of the improvised straightjacket. Nagi was standing by the site and watching them with a slightly amused impression on his face.
" –Goddamnit! Farf! Stand still, will you?!"
The crazy lunatic just jumped even more.
Schuldig grinned as Crawford cursed more and sauntered over to Nagi. "Hi, chibi." Nagi barely looked up. The sight of his two quarrelling team-mates was much too interesting to take his eyes off. "Hello Schuldich." Schuldig grimazed. "Schuldig, not Schuldich. Geez, why's Crawford the only one who pronounces it right?" Nagi shrugged, still too diverted to pay the redhead any proper attention.
Schuldig grinned again. Just now Farfarello had once again gracefully managed to evade Crawford's tries. "Slowly he's getting Braddy-boy going. Man, I didn't know that that stiff guy knew any such invectives. How long´s that going already?"
Nagi hinted another shrug of his shoulders. "Dunno. Quite a while. They started just after I put Farf into the coat."
#Crash!#
Another curse. "If that goes on, Weiß won't have furniture anymore."
"Uh huh."
"What do you think, should we help him?"
… …
They both answered the question at the same time. "No."
Watching was so much more entertaining.
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"Aw, come on Aya! You yourself said that I shouldn't make such a fuss about a simple garment."
Trust Yohji to rub it in. True, the redhead had really said something like that after listening over an hour to the playboy´s complaints, but then he hadn't known about this.
When the four had returned from their shift, a sight had greeted them that made them question their sanity. Crawford had been leaning in a chair, gasping and seemingly too exhausted to do anything more complicated than to breathe, though he seemed to try glaring at his German- and Japanese team-members. Schuldig and Nagi were standing by the wall, wearing serious faces and clapping their hands for some unknown reason to applaud. And then, most importantly, Farfarello sat on the ground with a straightjacket that looked suspiciously like Aya's trenchcoat.
What a picture.
Yohji really couldn't see why Aya was so worked up about it. Wasn't malicious glee a fine thing? He decided to push it a bit further, returning the redhead's very own words. "After all it's just a coat." Ha, take that.
Obviously, that had been a bit too much for the redhead's self-control. Letting out a low growl, he seized Schuldig by his collar. "It was your idea, wasn't it?!" Seeing murder written in those eyes, Schuldig´s grin got a bit crooked. "N-Nein… No. It was solely his idea.[3]"
Following the German's pointing hand, Aya turned to fix his glare on Crawford. A totally wasted effort, if you asked Yohji, since the Clairvoyant was still to busy trying to catch his breath to pay attention to any of them. Aya released his grip on the redhead and caught Brad instead in it, accidentally lifting the precognitive into the air since he was still caught in a kid's body.
Crawford remained unimpressed, even through meeting the Fujimiya glare of death. Aya was really angry now, with Mastermind, he could've understand, but Brad…!
"What were you thinking about that?!"
He stressed his question with a light shake. He didn't want to hurt Brad, after all. Not much. The leader of Schwarz returned his look coolly. "We needed a straightjacket for Farfarello so that we could get him to take his medication."
"Actually, it was just Brad. Brad and Farfie, that is. Naggs and I are totally innocent about it. Right, Braddy?"
The black-haired teen wriggled himself out of Abyssinian's grip and glared at the mind reader. Together with Aya there were two doing so. "Don't call me that." Schuldig couldn't help but grin at the possessiveness that had appeared in the other redhead's mind for a moment. ´Seems as if my suspicion's true.´
Straightening his clothes, Crawford turned to Aya again. "Your coat was the only thing remotely usable as a straightjacket."
Behind them, they heard somebody snigger. Aya in a straightjacket… Schuldig completed the amusement with a mental picture of the stoic Weiß redhead wrapped Farfarello-style in a cozy white straightjacket. The obligatory straps included, of course. He sent them to all except the glaring redhead in question. He wasn't _that_ desperate for suicide.
Upon the renewed outburst of cheerfulness, Aya whirled around just to be met with three amazingly innocent looking members of Weiß as well as two indifferent looking ones of Schwarz. He frowned at them, suspecting what was going on. Behind him, Crawford rolled his eyes.
/That wasn´t funny, Schuldig./ The German telepath smirked. /Really? You sure that you're not just being protective of your Aya-chan?/ The American frowned. /It was uncalled-for. And he's _not_ my Aya-chan./
Schuldig grinned. /Sure. The more you deny it, the more suspicious it is, ya know that Crawford?/ Crawford practically slammed his mental shields up in Schu´s face. /One point for the Mastermind, zero for dear Braddy./
Clearing his throat, Crawford said. "If you want your cloak back, you can take it whenever you want. Berserker already took his medication." Calling them by their code names normally meant that he was angry at them. Schuldig couldn´t understand why.^^
"However, I'd like to get out of range before you try that." Farfarello, who had been sitting on the floor, sulking, lifted his head. That sounded promising. Crawford seemed to be not in the mood anymore for another round of playing catch, after all. And they'd only played for a short time. (Pretty much the whole day, Farfie! ^^;)
…
The merry hunt just ended after Aya had decided to get his trusty katana once more and noticed the others making bets on the outcome of it. Pity them.
Actually Yohji would have won since he'd betted that Aya wouldn't make it to get his cloth back. But that's irrelevant.
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That night, they used the same division of rooms they'd already had used the night before.
Meaning that he and Brad had to spend the night with each other again. It also meant a sleepless night full of twisting and turning around to Aya. With the precog that near, thoughts and memories came to the redhead's mind, spinning around and around in his aching head. No wonder he couldn't sleep.
Though, this night, it was going to be different.
Turning on his couch once again, Aya sensed something near his head. Somebody, to be exact. Looking up, surprised violet eyes met annoyed amber-brown ones. Brad looked pretty pissed.
Taking a corner of the blanket that was covering the redhead's body into his hand, Brad yanked it all away with one big jerk.
Aya shivered involuntarily as the cold night air hit his suddenly unprotected skin. He probably would've tried to get his blanket back, if the black-haired American hadn't gripped his wrist and simply tugged him to the bed. Reaching it, he pushed the still too surprised to properly react redhead onto it, grumbling something inaudible.
Then he vanished for a moment, just to appear seconds later with Aya´s bed linen, dumping it over the other man. "Don't give me the damn bed if you can't sleep on the couch! No human being can sleep with you twisting around like that!"
And with this, he rounded the bed and crawled under his own covers on the other side of the mattress. Aya blinked. That certainly had been unexpected. Then another thought struck the redhead. He was sleeping with Brad. In the same bed. ´Great god…´
All possible deities of heaven and hell seemed to have zeroed in on the poor Aya. Poor guy. To make it all worse, Brad had fallen asleep again, now twisting himself a bit. ´No. Nononono. Don't you dare doing that.´ Ten minutes later found Aya with a peacefully sleeping Oracle snuggled up close to his chest. ´Great.´ Rolling his eyes, Aya heaved a sigh. ´Somebody up there really has to hate me.´
The redhead just thought about how to get out of that piquant situation – (Not that it was unpleasant, but should the clairvoyant wake up and find them still like this he was very likely to shoot Aya.) - when the American stirred slightly in his sleep. Aya frowned. Did the Oracle have a nightmare? Somehow that didn't sound very likely. Why would somebody as cold-blooded as Brad Crawford have nightmares? Apparently he still had them. Aya frowned as the shorter boy let out a soft whimpering sigh.
Not really knowing what he should do, Aya carefully stretched his hand out and stroked slowly over the others raven-black hair. ´Seems to work.´ Continuing his stroking Aya slowly relaxed himself, drifting of to sleep bit by bit.
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Crawford waited until he was definitely sure that the redhead had fallen asleep before he opened his eyes, smirking. Seemed like his little scheme had worked. Good. Listening to the other trying to be silent and yet turning around on the couch every five minutes had been unnerving. The Oracle just hoped that they didn't have to pull off such a theatre every time they wanted to sleep.
The Oracle frowned. ´Every time? Since when I'm planning on staying any longer than necessary?´ He found no answer for that question. Pushing it on his sleepiness, the rejuvenated American decided to ignore this slip of thoughts. Carefully avoiding waking the other sleeping man, he crawled out of the bed and left the room.
Shivering at the contact with the cold floor under his feet, Crawford silently set off to his goal, absentmindedly remembering Aya´s touch. Willing or not, he had to admit that it had felt nice to be touched like that. Pity that it wouldn't happen again… Frowning, Crawford made a disparaging noise in his head. ´Pity… Hmpf. Hold onto yourself Crawford. You don't need such things.´
Despite his distracted state, the young precog immediately noticed the other person who was sneaking around in the corridors. Sighing audible, Crawford gave Farfarello a pointed look.
"You still don't have enough?"
The albino grinned at him. Both men were too well trained as not to notice each others presence immediately.
"What are you up to again? Just for the records, I'm not happy with the little performance you pulled there."
Pale lips twisted into a feral smirk, while a sole amber eye glinted with amusement. "It hurt God." Sighing, Crawford shook his head. "It was not amusing." The Irishman grinned. "It was."
"I still don't see what you find interesting in playing crazy." Farfarello just grinned again. It was a less known fact that the Irish berserker wasn't even anywhere near as crazy and dumb as some people seemed to think when they thought of a lunatic who had an aversion against God. The opposite, to be exact. Farfarello was very clever – when he wanted to. Example? He just pulled that ´hurting God´ number when he had a proper audience. The remaining members of Schwarz were normally spared of it. Normally. If he didn't have any other plans in the moment.
Crawford just shook his head again, silent. "Come on." With that he led the way to his original destination, Nagi´s room. Schuldig was already there, together with the younger Prodigy and currently ´helping´ setting up his computer and equipment. Nagi looked as if he wanted to throw the intentionally annoying German out of the window. (Which already happened once.)
Crawford resisted the urge to curse the telepath in his head. Schuldig definitely would have heard… and transferred his attention onto the American.
"How is it going?"
Nagi grimaced. "I was already as good as done when he decided that I was in the need of a little help." The German in question pulled a face. "Hey! You could at least be a tiny bit grateful! I was trying to help ya!" "Helping, my ass…" "Hey!"
Crawford whacked them both on their head. "Itai!" "Au!" "Silent you two! Do you want to wake the whole apartment?" Nagi shrugged and turned back to finally fix his computer. "Gomen." I t was just a barely audible murmur. Schuldig grinned, lifted his hands so that they were easily visible and pointedly stepped away of the computer.
"It's working."
"Good. Now, I want you to hack into Estet´s computer system. There are some things I want to be sure of." Crawford smirked at their flabbergasted faces. The Oracle might not be able to always know everything, but he practically always knew where he had to look if that was the case.
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On the other side of the door, Aya lifted an eyebrow as he saw the other three members of Weiß already standing there.
Waving his hand in a fake greeting, Yohji grinned.
´So. Let's see what they're up to.´
Instincts of trained assassins.
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End chapter 17
[1] – Huh? I thought-
[2] – I don't really know which language this is, but it means: the ones who have disappeared or: the vanished ones.
[3] – No
Author ramblings: Wheee! Another chapter full of insanity!^^ Straight jackets are fun! As always, much MUCH thanks for the reviews, I greatly appreciate them!^_^
Happy eastern and please review, ne?^.^