Inkblots
by shaku
author's stuff: Third chapter! Mainly written thanks to a single comment by a single reader who said some really nice things and gave some really good tips… so thank you, Koneko Bombay.
Still with me? Good. I had a dream last night that the owner of the Weiss character signed the rights over to me, and the paperwork and I made sweet sounds together, but alas, it was just a dream. Hear that? The boys don't, nor will they ever, belong to me. Now go sue someone else.
note: If you read the first chapters a while ago, be sure to go back and check the top of the page (this section) for updates that might be crucial to the storyline.
Update (1/19/06): My timeline was a bit off (sorry), so I had to add some stuff in front of my previous submission. I hope nobody gets mad at me...
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"Where exactly are we going again?"
The small motorcycle had long since passed the main office district and they were now shooting past a multitude of shabby-looking shops and dark alleyways.
Omi turned around smoothly, throwing on as bright a smile as he could manage, and yelled over the wind, "Just a quick detour. I want to pick up something from my brother's shop. It'll only take a minute."
She opened her mouth to protest, but snapped it closed again when the vehicle slid to a halt in front of the Koneko no Sumu Le. Even from the outside, the strong scent of flowers wound enticingly around their heads.
"Your brother works here?" she asked dreamily, sniffing the air.
"Yup. Well actually, he owns the place. See those apartments up there? That's where he lives." Omi pointed above the Koneko where a single light shone through a dusty windowpane. So, the others had made it back in good time. Omi heaved a sigh of relief, hopping gracefully from the bike.
Just as he offered his hand to help her down, a loud splintering crash sounded from inside the flower shop.
"Did you hear that?" Gabrielle's forehead wrinkled as she strained to listen.
"Wait here," Omi whispered, rushing forward to unlatch the front entrance. He glanced back, but she didn't show any sign of moving. In fact, she now seemed rather relaxed, her fingers playing with the seam of her dress as her gaze drifted around lazily.
Shaking it off, he snuck under the door and entered the freakishly silent, dark building, leaving the entrance propped up slightly in case he needed to a quick escape.
His sense of smell adjusted almost instantly, already used to the shock of the shop's many odors, but his sight and hearing lagged a little behind. Why was it so dark? There was a shuffle behind him, from outside, and he could hear Gabrielle's grating voice rise cheerfully to greet some unknown body. Was it one of the Weiss? No…
As Omi bent down to pull up the metal security door again, he felt something dark slide up behind him. He tensed his muscles to turn, but before he could react a pair of thick arms circled around his torso, pressing a cold, moist cloth against his face. He jerked for a moment, growling into the fabric, but his mind quickly drifted into shadow and his body fell limp in the grasp of his huge assailant.
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"Hey boss, we did whatcha asked. Now whatcha wan' us to do with um?"
A long wail rose up on the other end of the cell phone, then a crash, and finally a high, whiney voice, "DAAADDDYYY! Daddy, how could you? I was finally-" the voice paused to inhale deeply, "I found this one on my OWN, daddy! I want to keep him! How dare you--"
The man listened to her wailing for a good five minutes before he even made an effort to console her, "Darling, daddy has a job to do. I promise you'll find another boyfriend. What happened to that nice Naoe boy?"
"Oh daddy, I know you paid him to come with me! And for your information, he took off as soon as he got the chance!"
The man's eyes narrowed, "Took off?"
"Yes daddy, it was horrible! He-"
"Darling, put Hub back on the phone."
"But DAAADDDYYY!"
"Gabrielle!"
"…yes, daddy."
There was a clatter as the phone was handed off, and then the original voice reappeared, whispering, "Sorry boss, I didn' realize she was so close."
"No matter. I want you back in position in the shop. Nobody leaves my little girl to be kidnapped."
"But boss, wasn't that the plan?"
"That's completely beside the point. Bring back young Nagi with our bunch or don't bother coming back at all."
"Yeah, boss. You got it."
The man flicked the phone shut and sighed. He sat alone in a dark office (he liked it dark), surrounded by a multitude of plants and photographs of his young, boisterous daughter. She really was getting to be quite a handful. Only a few months ago she fell into a state of rage at the merest mention of her appearance by a subordinate and he was forced to let yet another American factory slide into her ever-reaching grasp.
He stared at his reflection in the glass double doors. Was that graying, wrinkled creature truly him? No matter. He had no fondness for life anyway. The sooner old age arrived, the sooner he would be relieved of his mortal duties.
After resting a few moments, he climbed to his feet. Soon his men would arrive in the basement of the office building and require his assistance unloading their newest batch of cargo. He had to be sure and hide Naoe before Crawford popped up, or the appearance of the boy might ruin his entire plan, and he'd worked too long to be foiled by a technicality.
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Nagi, the esteemed "sane" member of Schwarz, known for his lack of emotion in times of crisis and overzealous apathy in the face of danger, came very, very close to throwing a bona fide teenage fit. So close, in fact, that a number of lumpy party balloons suffered serious physical anguish and committed suicide above the school door. The surprised shrieks of surrounding schoolgirls filled the air, followed by that annoying shuffle of subtle embarrassed laughter, and finished by the guys trying to act as though they hadn't just jumped three feet.
"Hey man, what a coincidence, ya know? All the balloons at once? I mean, what? We got a poltergeist or something?"
Nagi shoved his hands in his suit pockets.
"Heh… heh… yah, man, a poltergeist…"
Poltergeist his ass. He popped another one for good measure and walked away from the renewed chaos, feeling a bit guilty for pleasuring over such immaturity.
"Having fun, love?" Schu's honey voice drifted into his mind.
"Yes, actually."
He could've puked. He seriously considered puking. During his rush after Omi and his wretched date, the whole scene played out, more or less due to static interference, over the wires in his ear. He could hear Omi's sweet nothings and the girl's disgusting retorts (was she really that close to his face!)
Even more aggravating, it didn't really seem like she was putting up much of a fight. Nagi ground his teeth and slid into the waiting open door of the black limo.
"To the Koneko, and step on it," he murmured. The car slipped forward and Nagi settled back into the seat, trying to relax his thoughts for the fight he knew was coming. Just as he was considering the issue of whether or not to relay these events to Crawford (and how, for his while the wiring seemed to function perfectly to display Weiss's secrets, there had been no peep from Bradly), a pair of cold arms encircled his neck. He jumped, instantly ready to retaliate, but relaxed as a stream of permanently alcoholic breath wafted across his cheek.
"Pleased to see me, mein leib?" Schu purred, still clearly within the clutches of his enduring intoxication.
"I'd be more pleased if you didn't reek of strip joint."
"Oye, other than coming here, I haven't left my room since the other night."
"My point exactly. And why can't you bring your dates to dingy motels like all the normal sex addicts?"
"Because," he sneered, causing Nagi to gag from the fumes, "I only do it to piss off Brad. Truthfully, I don't give a flying fuck about those damned hussies. And he wouldn't give a flying fuck if I weren't saturating our communal bed sheets with forbidden fruit juices."
Nagi turned his head sideways to escape the onslaught of toxic gases, "Honestly though, I'm overjoyed at the chance to bask in your company, but you're killing my senses, and I'm going to need them tonight."
"Aww, did our bonny lass get away?" asked the German, feigning sympathy. "Slippery one, that girl. Too bad we can't count on Weiss to slit her throat for us."
"Who says anything about slitting her throat? We're supposed to be protecting her, remember?"
"Whatever you say, love."
To Nagi's increasing annoyance, Schuldig crawled over the seat and plopped down next to him.
"But our bosses and their kin always find a good way to get themselves killed, if you haven't noticed. I'm just saying that her death is inevitable."
Nagi blinked at this moment of clarity, and was about to inquire further, but at that precise moment the car lurched to a stop in front of the Koneko. The pink motorcycle was perched outside the front door and the thin metal security barrier, meant to ward off criminals, hung unlocked a good foot from the floor. Sloppy.
"Wait here," Nagi mumbled, turning back to Schu, only to find that the German had passed out and was producing a steady stream of drool that pooled in the deeper crevices of the seat. Rolling his eyes, Nagi removed himself from the car and slid the door shut softly. Hopefully he could somehow manage to remove his charge (would they leave her alone long enough?) before Crawford had a chance to get his mental tentacles around the incident, if he hadn't already.
Sighing, he steeled himself and crawled underneath the small opening beneath the door.