Chapter 12: After Sundown
[SCHU]
I awake alone after sundown to the sound of Crawford running the shower, the smell of his strong American coffee wafting throughout the apartment. I'm not really surprised; Brad's never been one much for cuddling. Well, for that matter, neither am I.
I sit up and cringe, falling back down on the mattress as a burst of pain flares up. I'm sore pretty much everywhere, sporting several fresh bruises along my upper arms and hips; my lower lip stinging from his teeth. Granted, Aya isn't exactly gentle, but that's ... different. Crawford's sex is brutal, yes, but it's without the edge of pain and desperation that I sese flooding through Aya with each touch and thrust. While a deep part of Aya needs to abuse me, Crawford merely delights in hearing the body below him cry out in pain.
Aya...
I roll over and groan into the pillow, slamming my fist down on next to my head in frustration. Goddamnit, why am I still thinking about him? He threw me out of his life, and cast his lot with Weiss, whether he fully knows that yet or not. I can just see it now: him running back with his tail between his legs to Hidaka, slipping back into that accursed team and ridiculous flowershop, peddling rose arrangements and collecting a Kritiker pension until the end of his days.
Well, It's not like I really have anything to do with it, right? In the back of my head I hear an echo of a small voice telling me not so long ago: "You can't have him. He's white, and we're black." I can't continue to deny it. From my end of things, every moment I stay with Schwartz is another wedge I willingly drive between Aya and myself. As for his part, he doesn't want me, doesn't trust me, and doesn't know that he needs me. End of story.
So why doesn't that thought help matters any?
I turn back over and shake my head, trying to clear the confusion from my mind. Why the fuck am I obsessing over this? Fujimiya Ran was a mission from the very first and remains so until the last. A mission to kill, a mission to confuse, a mission to watch. Just a mission, _never_ more than a mission.
Yeah, right. Just a fucking mission that's messed with my head, shaken every truth in which I believe, and pretty much has put my neck on the line. I mean, can you just imagine what Hidaka and company would try to do to me if they knew what I was up to with Aya? Seducing him, luring him away from Weiss, and doing God-knows-what to his fragile mind? Not to mention the shit I'm probably in with Crawford. He's no fool, and knows that I've taken this thing too far. I can only hope that through what happened last night I've won back whatever confidence in my loyalty that he might have lost. I won't really know for sure, however: cracking Crawford's brain is, admittedly, something beyond me. Despite his wavering powers of prediction, the man has mental shields which are as strong as steel. I'd rip my own mind apart before I got beneath Crawford's barriers.
What a fucking mess. Before this whole thing is over, I'm probably going to have Weiss, Schwartz, _and_ Aya baying for my blood.
Hearing Crawford leave the bathroom, I bite my lip and climb out of bed, sliding on my discarded pants and crumpled shirt. I can't put it off any longer; it's time to find out exactly what Crawford and our new boss have been up to. The goddamned plot thickens.
That jerk better damn well have not used up all the hot water.
***
Nagi's in the living room for a change, mangas laying strewn about around him. He doesn't even look up as I walk in, instead cramming three more sticks of pocky in his mouth. "Konban wa, Schu." He mumbled, flipping through the comic.
I inwardly marvel at Nagi's single-mindedness, his ability to completely shut off whatever chaos is unfolding around him. There's a potential firestorm about to break loose in this apartment, and he's just sitting there reading mangas and watching anime, oblivious.
"Hey, kid. He's waiting, huh?"
He finally looks up, flashing me a wry smile. "You know he is." *Hey, Schu. Good luck.*
***
I try to sound casual as I enter the office, making sure that all channels to my head are cut off from his prying sixth sense. "Evenin' Brad," I murmur, as I slide gracefully into the empty chair across from him. "Now that we're all rested up," I pause to lick my lips, "I thought that we could get around to discussing that intelligence meeting I missed. You said that something that came up might concern me?"
Crawford smirked and replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "It really is a shame that you didn't come with me to the meeting, Schuldig. You're absence was noted. Of course, I just explained to our employer that you were out fucking the target you were supposed to monitor, and he understood."
Yeah, right. Time to whip out "insistent-yet-slightly-subservient-Schu," a sure-fire tactic to get my way in the current situation. "Brad, come on, stop screwing around with me! What the hell went on there that night?"
With a short laugh, he caves. "Fine, fine. I suppose you _have_ suffered enough. Do you remember this?"
He slides a folder across the table, leaning back in his chair with a disinterested expression on his face, as if he _weren't_ monitoring my reaction with a microscope. Opening the folder, my breath hitches in my throat as I immediately recognize the picture on the first page. It's an image which I see constantly imprinted on Aya's mind, a part of a broken memory which replays itself over and over in his dreams. A red phoenix, wings outstretched and rising from black flames. It's also an image I remember all too well from firsthand experience.
Come on, Schuldig. Time to play dumb. And it better be a command performance, or Crawford will see right through you..."That night, the mansion. Kawakami Something-or-other. We're finished with those sickos, aren't we?"
"Apparently, Mr. Kawakami wants to engage our services again, which is why he organized our little mission briefing. Heavens knows why he wants us back after your little episode that night; he was highly disappointed in your performance, Schuldig. It was all I could do to keep him from throwing an army of thugs after you. You do remember what happened last time you pissed off a boss, don't you?"
I flinched. That was low, to bring up Taketori and his fucking golf clubs. Bastard. "What's your point, Brad?" There's a bitterness to my tone that I cannot bite back., despite all efforts to act complacent.
"The point, Schuldig, is that your kitten doesn't have much time left. We've got orders to capture him and deliver him 'reasonably unharmed.' Just think of this as restitution for your temporary lapse of judgement last time."
I involuntarily suck back a harsh breath and inwardly struggle to retain composure as he sends me images of Aya, beaten, naked, and inches from death.
Crawford smiles as he closes the folder and pretends not to notice my reaction.
I shrug it off and continue, determined not to let him get the best of me. He'd like nothing more for me to admit that I have feelings toward Aya, but goddamnit, I don't, and I won't give him the satisfaction of saying so! "How exactly does he propose we do this, Brad? Capturing a Weiss kitty isn't as easy as it sounds."
"Too true: but it's a simple enough plan, and well within even your capabilities: through Fujimiya himself. We're to feed Weiss the information they've been hunting for as to the whereabouts of their leader's captors, and let them fall into our hands. They'll be so blinded by their desire for the kill that they won't see the trap right in front of their faces."
Hmm. Interesting, and entirely plausible. Not that I give a flying fuck about Hidaka and friends, but it's pretty low to take advantage of Aya's given state...time to throw a wrench in here, somewhere. I close the folder and slide it back across the desk. "How can you be so sure that Aya won't simply find Kawakami and slice him in half?"
Crawford gave a short, sharp laugh, before answering in a deadly tone: "Schuldig, in his mental state, how long do you think your little lover he'll last in his quest for revenge? From all the reports you've given us, he can't even hold his sword straight."
Well, it _was_ a valid question. The only problem in Crawford's logic was the fact that I hadn't told him the entire truth about Aya's situation. While Crawford knew that Aya had been driven to violence and erratic behaviour after the kidnapping, I may have embellished a point or two, basically leading him to believe that Aya was ready for a nice, long stay at a state mental hospital. Well, I suppose by some standards, he might have been. But that was before I started merging with Aya in his dreams, before I had begun to untangle the web of confusion in his mind, before I had started providing him with an outlet for all his rage and aggression. Who really knew, now, just how stable Aya was? Certainly not Crawford. But then, best keep that little secret to myself.
"Yeah, perfect..." I reply. "When do we start?"
"We already have. I've got Nagi working on cracking into Kritiker and sending Weiss a briefing on their new 'mission.' After that, we set up the trap and wait for them to fall into it."
"Weiss aren't idiots, Brad. Bleeding heart fools, perhaps, delusional certainly, but not idiots. That brat Tsukiyono will have it figured out in a second that it's a fake briefing."
He just nods, as if I haven't shot his whole plan down. "Exactly."
What the hell?
"Again, your powers of plotting have left me in awe." I snort. This plan was sounding more complicated by the minute. "Look, if you're just going to feed Weiss the info, why bother with the ruse at all?"
"Simple: to lend our information some legitimacy. Nagi will make sure that they know its fake, but that Kritiker won't be able to detect our presence in their system. That way, Weiss will know that the data comes from a force to be reckoned with - perhaps from someone with accurate information. And they won't dare pass up the opportunity to nail Aya's attackers." He sounds, so pleased with himself, I want to slap him, or burst out laughing. Even if he is a jerk, he's really not that different from myself, and it true that his schemes never fail to impress.
"Fine, fine. But why the fuck do you need to drag me into this? It sounds as if you and Nagi have things under control."
"True, we are managing things according to plan quite nicely. But, Schuldig, who better than you to keep an eye on the situation on the ground? I mean, after all, you seem to have taken a rather personal interest in Weiss of late."
Point, Crawford. You just couldn't resist getting in that final dig about Aya and myself, could you? Before I can reply, he continues.
"Mr. Kawakami's also interested in discussing your abilities. He's considering how to make the most of our resources in exacting damage on Fujimiya. Rest and be prepared, because no doubt he'll want you to work over the kitten's mind."
Bloody perfect. I get up and stretch, heading for the door.
"Oh, and Schuldig: this time we will be working _with_ Mr. Kawakami's employees, not shooting them.""
I nod, and leave Crawford's office, heading for my own room to nap. If Crawford was right, yes, I would need to gather strength. Because wiping Aya's mind, while well within my capabilities, would be the hardest thing I'd ever have to do.
Bastard. I should have killed Kawakami Hiroshi three months ago, when I had the chance.
///
"Mr. Kawakami, your home is beautiful."
Crawford strolled confidently along next to his new employer, head of Kawakami Enterprises. Kawakami had recently relocated his headquarters to Kyoto, and was eagerly showing off his new home to his bodyguards. Schuldig sighed inwardly as he trailed behind, trying to feign interest in whatever particular piece of art the man was raving about just now. It was forty minutes and counting of this utter boredom, with Crawford expertly kissing ass all the way, maintaining a constant stream of mundane banter with their boss.
"Yes, it is beautiful, isn't it? I've managed quite well on my share of the leftovers from Taketori's demise."
Schuldig involuntarily stiffened. Taketori. That was one guy who was better off in the ground, along with Fujimiya.
Kawakami's voice was smooth and confident, with an insistent edge of pride behind it. He was short, barely over five feet tall, but what he lacked for in size he attempted to make up for in status. He kept himself impeccably groomed and clad in finely tailored garments, he flouted his university education and fine possessions in the face of anyone who happened by, and guarded his new "Empire" with a frightening zeal. Hence, Schwartz.
Crawford merely laughed along with Kawakami in agreement, casting a sidelong glance at Schuldig before following Kawakami out a side door and into the extensive grounds.
*Crawford, I swear, next time you bring the kid. I'm going crazy in this goddamned museum!* Schuldig sent to Crawford, forcing his mental voice into a whine.
*Shut up, Schuldig. You're acting like a child.*
*Maybe. But I don't like this guy. And this place, it's...*
Schuldig cut himself off and cursed silently. He didn't like admitting he was uneasy around something, but this place just had a type of vibe...He'd felt strange since arriving, and truth be told, he couldn't wait to leave.
The party made their way across the grounds toward some maintenance buildings, when Schuldig stopped stock-still. There was something inside the far shed which was giving him chills. It was the sound produced by a mind which was in great pain, and desperately crying out for help, the body too weak to continue and on the verge of death. He knew it well, for he had produced it often enough in the minds of others, mostly for amusement. However, there was something decidedly unamusing about this situation. It was to this building that Kawakami brought them, pausing outside the door and asking in an eager voice,
"Now, gentlemen, would you like to see my latest toy?"
Crawford, of course, had the answer, smooth and as collected as ever. "We'd be only too delighted, Mr. Kawakami."
The door was pulled back, and Schuldig felt bile rising in his throat at the scene before him. Bound by his wrists and suspended from the ceiling was a pathetic naked creature, obviously subject to much torture and humiliation, unconscious and covered in filth. From the stench and the look of the place, goodness only knew how long he'd been imprisoned; weeks, days, it was impossible to tell.
The mental energy of the anguished person flooded Schuldig's extra sense and left an odd sense of familiarity. A slight touch of his powers confirmed his suspicions, and with great effort he restrained the gasp of revulsion that threatened to break free from his throat.
It was with great pride that Kawakami addressed his guests: "As you can see, we've managed to capture the only remaining piece of Fujimiya, something Taketori was unable to do. And, in time, when I think he has paid enough for being his father's son, he'll join his parents in the ground."
"Most impressive." Crawford chuckled low under his breath.
*Impressive?* Schuldig sent to Crawford. *This is disgusting, Bradley. Even the lack of basic sanitation should be enough to revolt your delicate sensibilities.*
*I don't see you catching yourself a Weiss anytime soon, Schuldig. And yet, this pathetic little stump of a man has managed to do so quite well. That is, in itself, very impressive.*
*As much as I hate Weiss, Crawford, this is even below us.*
"Of course, I can't really say I'm entirely disappointed that he survived the blast." Kawakami continued, oblivious to the mental conversation between his companions.
"After all, it was he who took the liberty of disposing of my dear business partner Taketori, wasn't it? And I'm sure you know how much we all miss him." Kawakami's lips formed a sneer, and he pushed his had backward and let loose a string of insane laughter.
Shaking his head, Schuldig glared at Kawakami before continuing back to the main house. In truth, he half couldn't understand why the sight of Fujimiya Ran like this affected him so. Perhaps it was the fact that the beautiful, intense face that he had faced in the heat of battle was now devoid of rage and looking as pathetic and vulnerable as it did on the day his parents died.
***
"Schuldig, you've had a lot of bad ideas in your day, but this one is the worst! What will Crawford say when he finds out what you've roped me into?" Nagi admonished, incapable of processing exactly why they were engaging in such a foolhardy enterprise, and at 3 am, no less!
"He'll congratulate me on my gall and give me a raise?" Schuldig replied back optimistically, double checking his supply of bullets before sliding into the car beside Nagi, who simply sighed and rolled his eyes.
Schuldig slammed the door behind him and started the ignition, cranking up the stereo and flashing Nagi a wide smile. "Come on, kid. If it's against the rules, it's more fun." With that, he shifted gears and sped out of the underground parkade, making for the Kawakami compound.
***
The shed door was cracked open slightly, and the sounds coming from within were chilling. Groans, pants, cheers, and thuds all lent evidence to a beating and gang rape of the captive within.
Schuldig pried back the doors, exposing four burly men, no better than common thugs. Three of them stood in a semi-circle, partially blocking his view of the two figures on the floor. One of the men standing was bare-chested and swinging a chain, a tattoo of a bird visible on his upper arm. He was leaning over the pair on the floor, practically salivating at the sight of the brutality.
Nagi shuddered inwardly. He wasn't any stranger to this kind of activity, given his past on the streets and involvement with Schwartz. The truth was, however, that he never had a liking for any of the opportunities he had to wield power over others. For him, Schwartz was a survival means, not a place where he could revel in violence. Despite this, he couldn't really understand what they were doing here - what concern of theirs was any of this? Why had Schuldig gone to such lengths to drag him along here?
That was when he spied the identity of the victim. There was absolutely no mistaking that shocking red hair - Weiss, here, on the property of their new employer. As Nagi struggled to come to grips with what was going on, two of the three men standing had caught on that they weren't alone. They yelped and searched for their discarded weapons, alerting the other two who quickly got to their feet and stared down the intruders.
*Schuldig, what the fuck are we doing here?! These aren't exactly favourable odds, are they?* Nagi sent, trying to keep calm.
As three of the thugs advanced on the pair, Schuldig laughed, low and dangerously. "Now, now, gentlemen. Surely there are more entertaining pursuits you could be engaged in? Why don't you get lost and leave us play with the kitty, hmm?"
The men chuckled as they continued to advance on the pair, murder in their eyes. The fourth stood over Aya and challenged Schuldig. "Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing here?"
"We're new employees, and we've come to relieve you of your duties. Get the hell out of here, before I'm forced to use this." No one had seen Schuldig draw the gun which was now aimed squarely at the head of the fourth man. "Play nice, and you wont get hurt."
*Schu, I don't think we can just kill our boss's other employees.*
*I'm not going to kill them, brat, I just want to get them out of here so that we can get Weiss.*
*'Get' him? What the hell?*
"I'm not going anywhere, asshole." The cocky expression remained fixed on the man's face, the other three motionless as they watched the interplay between Schuldig and their "leader."
Never one to back down, Schuldig smiled and replied calmly, "Really? Have it your way, I don't have time to play with you."
A single gunshot rang out and the leader doubled over, clutching at his groin and shouting in pain. The other three men bolted toward Schuldig, who fired another shot into the leg of the closest attacker. He cried out and fell over, cursing.
"I assume no one else wants to lose their reproductive capabilities?" Schuldig waved his gun and was met with silence. "Then get the fuck OUT!" Two of them scrambled for the exit, leaving their fallen teammates behind.
*So much for loyalty amongst scoundrels, hmm?* Schuldig mused, as he stepped over one of the thugs toward Aya. Christ, he's in bad shape, he thought, as he checked the younger man's vitals. *Still alive, though.* he sent to Nagi, who stood dumbfounded at the door.
Schuldig stood back up and silently "felt out" the situation: the two men who had run were on their way back to the main house to alert Kawakami that someone was about to steal his "prize." He cursed his own stupidity for letting them go; he and Nagi didn't have much time. *Nagi, let's get out of here.*
Nagi looked around the room and back toward the car. *I'm not carrying the body. He's filthy, and as good as dead, anyway.*
Schuldig closed his eyes and tried to deny the truth of Nagi's words. He just may have been too late. *Fine, I'll take him, but you've got to keep a hold on them while I do it.*
Nagi kept a mental "hold" on the remaining two thugs while Schuldig gently picked Aya's broken body off the floor. He groaned under the weight of the burden, and grimaced at the copious amounts of blood which covered the pale skin. *Please,* he begged silently. *Please don't let him die. He can't die.* When they finally reached the vehicle, Schuldig placed Aya on the ground for a moment. Reaching back with his mind, he pushed all his mental energy into ravaging the heads of the men who had tortured Aya, making sure that they would have to relive the horror of their actions every minute of the rest of their short, insane lives.
*Assholes...* With a satisfied smirk on his face, Schuldig blacked out, collapsing on the ground next to Aya.
He awoke the next day with a raging headache to find Nagi hovering above him. "Nagi...you delivered the package last night, right?"
Schuldig received an image of Aya, bruised and bloody, wrapped in a blanket and slumped over the steering wheel of his Porsche in the alley behind Weiss' flat. He sighed and closed his eyes, flopping back down on his pillow.
"Yes, and Crawford's fit to murder you. Go back to sleep while you can."
"Thanks, kid."
"You're nuts, Schuldig. You know that? You're fucking nuts." Nagi shook his head, peering down on his teammate. He couldn't remember Schuldig behaving so erratically, and so totally against Crawford's orders. It didn't make any sense: why rescue Abysinnian, and from their new boss of all people? There had to be some reason...
Nagi's eyes went wide with understanding. It explained so much, and was so heartbreakingly impossible. *You may as well give up on him, Schu. You can't have him. He's white, and we're black.* Nagi sent, still standing over Schuldig's bed.
*Who says I want him?* Schuldig's eyes remained closed, as if he was trying to block out the truths that Nagi was sending him.
*You killed his parents. Helped to, anyway.*
*I know. They were jerks.*
*He loved them, anyway. He'll never love you. Besides, we've seen him all over Siberian.*
*What the fuck do you know about it?*
There was a momentary pause in the conversation before Nagi sent back, the anger and sadness clinging to the thought louder than any words could have been. *You're going to get yourself killed over this, aren't you?*
"Nagi, go. And shut the goddamned door."
///
I can convince myself over and over until the end of days, but the truth is, Nagi was all too right. Aya is white, and I'm black. He cannot be mine. And now, as I lay here preparing myself to meet Aya in combat and to erase his mind, I know that I can no longer truly delude myself.
Four years have passed since I first encountered the mind of a scared and vulnerable boy named Fujimiya Ran. From the very first he reached out and grabbed something deep inside me and didn't let go, pulling me down into the depths with him with a force beyond my ability to explain. For two years I was able to distance myself from his reach, when he reappeared with Weiss, brightly and suddenly, like a flame in the darkness. I found his dreams again, and watched him battle his demons night after night. How could I not be drawn to him once again? How could I ignore his pain, his beauty, his courage, and his fear?
I had no idea, four years ago, when I watched him sitting amidst broken chunks of concrete and shattered glass, that this was the course we were destined for. To become enemies, lovers, and ultimately anchors for each other; that the sad boy with flaming hair would pull me into his core, making his very being an essential part of my existence.
Did Crawford see it all, so clearly in his mind's eye? Is that why he had merely smiled sadistically when he asked me those years ago why I couldn't bring myself to kill Fujimiya Ran? I think back then, had I known all that would happen, I just might have. Hell, it would have saved me a lot of trouble, and pain. And ultimately, has it been worth it? Yes, the voices in the back of my mind urge. Yes, it was. Defying my superiors, incurring the wrath of Crawford, and the inevitable deaths which now loom in my future--it had been worth it. Yes, deaths. I'm no oracle, my sixth sense doesn't afford me the opportunity to predict the fates of men, but there is one thing I know as sure as I know myself: as with everything else in my life, this can only end in violence.
It wasn't always like this. I once had a home, a family, a heart. But when I left Germany to join Schwartz, I left behind all traces of Sascha, the keeper of my soul and the part of me which had the ability to feel empathy and love. But now, years later and in a far off place, he's creeping back into me, slowly sucking up "Schuldig" and all of his detached, cold, sense of self-preservation.
The big problem is, as Sascha, I'm no match for Bradley Crawford.
Again, the nagging voices in my head are right. Lose your heart, Schuldig, they taunt. Bury it back deep, lock it away, and heave the key into a forge. It's the only way to survive.
~~~`~,~@