TITLE: Jigsaw
AUTHOR: Simply Kim
PART: Two of Six
WORD COUNT: 2,683
CHARACTER/S: Brad Crawford x Fujimiya Ran
DISCLAIMERS: By no means does the series Weiss Kreuz belong to me. All I own is the story you're about to read. If you see places and people that resemble those that and whom you know, such is mere coincidence and nothing more.
NOTE#1: I have decided not to let ailments and papers bog me down in creating pieces from the stuff that keep on popping in my brain. I need mental release, and this is the best way to do it or I'll go crazy. Anyway, just a few reminders:
1. Blah and Blah Reiterations or stresses
2. /Blah/ Flashbacks or phone/messenger conversations
3. /Blah/ Conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking
4. Blah Thoughts or random Japanese words (Most are footnoted)
NOTE#2: Thank you to Noire Sensus for all the quotes they have in their spiffy website. Much love!
NOTE#3: Please assume that the usual Glühen is not represented here. I just created my own Glühen world, thus the weirdness.
NOTE#4: This is an elaboration of the one-shot I created a long while back for the 30kisses community, so don't be surprised upon finding all thirty themes in here. This is in lieu of my finally stumbling upon the Crawford x Ran community after all those times I squirmed just to get a glimpse of something that featured my Weiss Kreuz OTP! XD
SECOND PIECE: BYZANTINE
"All are lunatics, but he who could analyse
his delusion is called a 'Philosopher'"
Ambrose Bierce
The morning rush had just passed and he couldn't help the feeling of elation as he saw the last of the fangirls leave. It wasn't everyday that peace like this was given them, most often than not they were hunting down criminals and such.
A sharp pain emanated from his head and he winced, shaking it a bit before attending to the tulips that seemed to suddenly get too droopy for his tastes.
He sighed, staring at the limp leaves and looked up, eyes straying to his overenthusiastic teammate, Ken. He was drowning them as per usual. Honestly, the man didn't know control. He closed his eyes and prayed for patience.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
OxxxOxxxO
"What the hell did you do to yourself?"
Crawford took in Schuldig's slack jaw and petrified gaze before realising he was referring to what his appearance was at present. "I had a makeover." He responded wryly. "What does it look like?"
"It looks like Halloween – I mean, you look really classy and – you know, respectable..." The redhead stammered, backing away to the mansion's huge iron-wrought front door, eyes widening at the impact of the visible foot Nagi kicked against his shin.
"You look great, Crawford-san." The computer genius smiled tightly, a look of distress crossing his face, his single visible eye showing slivers of uncertainty as he surveyed his leader.
Crawford didn't know if he should take their comments negatively. After all, they didn't ring true. "Either you tell me what's wrong or I'll wring the truth out of both of you." He threatened, his shortening fuse threatening to blow.
Schuldig gulped and was about to say something when something flashed in their minds.
"Farfarello." They exclaimed in unison. It was rare after all, that the man made his existence known. He was still in a coma after the explosion, and they didn't want to get him off the machinery just yet. Crawford's vision showed him waking up in his room, flanked by a rejoicing Schuldig. It had been a few years – but he was still alive.
And he could still communicate through the bond they all shared.
He was a part of their inner world, one that only Crawford could utilise fully.
Something resembling a snort erupted from the man's lips, and in his mind's eye, he saw him smirk.
"That hurts God."
OxxxOxxxO
Ran was braiding his hair when Youji stumbled in carrying a huge pot of decorative ferns. Snickering inwardly, he made a mock stern face and raised a brow in supplication. "You're not drunk, are you, Kudou?"
From behind the tower of leaves came the scathing retort. "Let's see you carry this and I stand there braiding my goddamn hair!"
"Ah-ah-ah... no fighting!" Ken sing-songed, mopping up the floor in cheerful haste. He had a soccer game this afternoon, Ran knew, and the prospect of seeing his precious little children was enough to put him in such a happy daze. "Besides, you can't braid your hair, you cut it short, remember? Or is all the alcohol you consumed at last night's party affecting your brain?"
"Teme..." Youji growled, quickly setting the pot heavily down with a loud 'thunk!' "I swear, if you don't take that back, I will seriously hurt you."
Ken laughed, ducking swiftly as he stuck out his tongue, dashing towards the backroom in order to escape from the willowy menace that was his friend.
"KEN! Come back here! I will hurt you ten times over if you don't stop running away from – hey! Don't! That's my underwear! Ken!" Youji's screams faded as the warring pair went farther and farther away from Ran... until he couldn't hear them anymore.
Silently, he trudged towards the counter, picking a rag as he did. Deftly, he wiped the all-too-clean countertop repeatedly in an effort to keep his mind busy. His thoughts kept drifting to that lone day a couple of years back. The time when Omi was still their little Tsukiyono, the proverbial mother hen at such a young age... back at the time when Aya, his sister was still asleep, being held hostage to be offered as a sacrificial lamb by the cult that was SS.
Back to the moment when he heard the crashing waves of the unforgiving icy sea that nearly engulfed him. He swore he had not been able to swim effectively since his injuries hindered him to do so. He remembered passing out from sheer pain, and then waking up to warmth... comfort.
He was undoubtedly saved.
But... by whom?
His hand slowed. He remembered the smell of heady perfume... like the scent of gardenias in full blossom. It was very faint, but his trained nose located it. It was there. Continuously, he scanned his mind, hoping to find clues as to who his saviour was. He had to find him – he just had to.
He had to know who it was, so he could speak to him properly. He had to know so he could pour out his pain over being saved without his permission. He closed his eyes and backed towards the wall, sliding down in a show of exhaustion.
I didn't want to live anymore... and yet I was saved. His mind screamed. I wanted to retire peacefully... I wanted to leave all the blood and death behind... I wanted to escape from all the insanity I was subjected to.
Pain lashed out and clamped harshly into his heart, making him wince in quiet despair.
I wanted to escape from my own reality.
I wanted to escape from who I am.
OxxxOxxxO
It didn't matter to him if he looked like – as Schuldig put it, 'Dracula Reborn'. What was wrong with a monocle anyway? And he liked his new hair. It was blond and that showed him in a more aristocratic light. Nagi was being ridiculous when he said he looked better with his hair all black, Farfarello too when he said he would like to stain his skin a bloody red and give him fangs or something. They were just not exposed to class, that was all.
He glared at the bus driving slowly in front of him. Restlessly tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he planned the course of his visit. His fully restored precognitive abilities were now stronger, what with no one to inhibit it. For once he was glad he had it.
It seemed like he was going to save someone again this time...
Now if he could only get ahead of the stupid bus.
/"Schuldig."/
/"Yes, Oh Horrific One?"/
The American's brow twitched. /"Don't call me that."/
/"Fine, fine. So, what is it, Crawfish?"/
Another twitch. /"I will not tie you to your bed and expose you to the wolves tonight if you get the guy driving the bus ahead of me out of the way."/
/"Impatient, are we?"/
Crawford gritted his teeth and growled in irritation.
/"The wolves, Schuldig, the wolves."/
OxxxOxxxO
"Ne, Ken... have you noticed anything different in Aya?"
Ken sighed and mopped the mess they made after their pillow fight. The synthetic fibres were littered on the floor, and when they came back to their senses, they thought in sync that when their leader saw what was left of the living room, they would end up dead and floating in the nearest river.
Fujimiya didn't like messes.
They made him murderous – the same kind whenever he learned his sister's condition was compromised in the past.
He was scary.
"Hmm?" Ken responded absently. "He's not much of our beloved recluse... is that the answer you're looking for?"
"Not really – that one's too obvious." Youji answered thoughtfully, ears pricking as a sound of a fast-running car suddenly ground to a screeching halt nearby. Then he relaxed, after all, it was impossible to get attacked this early in the morning – and they weren't activated fully yet... just some minor jobs such as research and such. "I was thinking more along the lines of 'uncertain' and 'indecisive'."
"Geh, when he hears that, he would definitely kill you."
The blonde gave him a sidelong look. "It's true though." He continued. "He has been really... loose the past few years – actually, right after our last battle with Schwarz... I wonder why?"
"I don't know... maybe he's trying to practice being instructor-like since that was what Omi-kun told us after we recuperated. We have another mission soon, and I can feel it." Ken offered helpfully. "Maybe it's just for show or something."
"Nah." Youji sighed. "He'll never be loose that long just for show."
Ken considered his friend's words in silence. "You're right." He admitted, nodding his head once. "Whatever it is, I'm sure he has a good reason."
"Yeah, I guess."
"I'm done!" The young soccer instructor crowed gleefully. "I'm gonna go help Aya! Bye Youji!"
Surprised at the speed the other worked, he stared at the mess on his side of the living room and tried to hold off the other so as to not leave him and instead pitch in to help – but too late, the other was already putting his cleaning materials in order.
Great... I'm losing the old Kudou Charm.
OxxxOxxxO
There was something off and Ran felt it.
Purple irises made known its presence to the world as he opened his eyes... and encountered a pair of chocolate browns gazing in amusement down at him. He flushed in mortification, standing up immediately and dusting the back of his pants. "What..." He cleared his throat. "May I help you, sir?" He asked in his best 'composed businessperson' voice – which wasn't exactly different from his usual – at all.
"I've never seen a florist with quite the same expression you had a while ago." Came the equally straight comment. "Something bothering you?"
A tiny frown marred Ran's brows. A gaijin... a foreigner... and yet can speak fluent Japanese. It was familiar, the voice and the way the man held himself up. He couldn't quite place it but there was something nudging his memory. He quickly pushed it away and turned back to the impending conversation – something he hoped wouldn't take long, but that really depended on how it would flow, he reminded himself. Silently, he steeled himself for another row with a foreign customer.
He had enough of foreigners. They all reminded him of Schwarz, the evil beings who kidnapped his sister twice and tried to kill all of them. They were unforgivable, and he, of all four of Weiß, was the one who was steadfast in his decision to keep foreigners at arm's length.
The man was blond, not unusual for the occasional tourists that plagued their area, but something in him screamed wrong... He looks like someone out of a second-rate horror movie. He thought.
Ran was certain this man was not born that way. He knew since he was the same. His hair hadn't always been red. The roots of his hair were darker. "None of your concern... sir." He grated pointedly.
He was irked even more when the corner of the man's lips curled up in a smile – as if laughing at a private joke – at his expense.
He scowled.
"What?" He asked defensively, crossing his arms across his chest in obvious defiance.
The man shook his head. "Nothing. You are just the same when – as someone I knew years ago." He gave a small smile. There was a moment of contemplative silence before the customer turned his gaze at the row of roses lining the display shelves east of the counter. "I was entranced by your roses." He said calmly in the face of Ran's burgeoning death glare. "They are close to overflowing from the containers, would it be possible for me to acquire some?"
Such formality was not alien to him, and slowly, his blood began to boil. It reminded him of his late father's business associates, back when they were still a happy family. Those associates, who betrayed his father flat out, sold him to Takatori. Just for that, Ran swore he would charge double... even triple. "You could." He said flippantly. "How many do you want?"
The man turned back to him once more, darkened eyes unsettling him so much that he had to turn away or he would waver. "All your red roses."
Ran stepped back in surprise. All their roses for the day were red. He scanned the shelf and then stared back at him. "You're not kidding?"
The customer shook his head.
"You're going to take all three containers?"
"I believe that's how many they are."
Snapping his mouth shut, the redheaded florist worked, carrying the containers one by one over the counter, aware of the man's scrutiny as he did. He was watching him closely, and it made him sweat a bit. It was unsettling... it was disturbing. When he got the last container on the counter, it looked as if it sprouted a garden of wild roses. "Do you want the flowers wrapped or do you want to transfer everything in several pots?"
"I want to have them as they are now." Came the almost inaudible response.
Ran understood, but was a little taken aback. "That would be –"
The man handed him a black, translucent card and smiled once again, a sliver of perfect teeth visible under red lips. "Just charge it. I'm not used to carrying cash."
As he worked with the credit card machine, he felt intense eyes still on him. He wanted to ask why but he just couldn't bring himself to.
It was his customer who broke the silence. "You are troubled."
He glared at the man as he handed him back his card and his receipt. "Excuse me?"
"You are afraid."
Ran's glare sharpened. "I am not."
Wordlessly, the man nodded, eyes unreadable, putting the redhead back to the defensive. He was about to make a scathing reply when Ken suddenly burst through the backroom door and cried out in surprise at the sight of all the flowers on the counter.
"Oh my good lord! You're buying all those flowers?" He asked in awe. Ran wanted to smack him on the head. Ken, you idiot... isn't it obvious?
There was something close to amusement that showed in the man's eyes as he answered. "Yes, and I need someone to help me put them in my car's compartment."
"I'll help!" Ken said cheerfully – as per usual, drying his hands on his apron. He whistled appreciatively. "Who are all these for? Your girl?"
The man's gaze hardened. It seemed serious to Ran, and he swore that for a moment, he looked close to homicidal. When he blinked, it was gone. "No – for a friend. He was mauled by a... cat."
Ken stared at him in disbelief. "You must be kidding me!"
He smiled, somewhat cynically in Ran's opinion. "No, not the domesticated cat. A big one... while he was in Siberia. A tiger actually. He mauled him and sent him falling down an abyss... into the icy water. He was in a coma ever since."
The space between dream and reality. Ran mused, feeling pity for the man's friend. People have their own comas... even those who are still alive and well.
Ken's eyes started showing signs of discomfort. "I'm sorry." He said quietly. "I shouldn't have asked. It's too painful for you."
"It is, but I get by." The man responded. "Please take that to my car, I don't want to be late for my appointment."
"Aye sir!" He said brightly, trying to do a mock salute while juggling with a heavy container of roses, before hurrying outside.
"And you." He turned to Ran, an unreadable emotion crossing his face. "Are one lucky person to be alive."
A jolt of something resembling shock ran up his spine. He had a feeling that the guy knew exactly what he was brooding about when he came in. "Why do you –"
"No reason."
And he sauntered towards the exit, hand waving farewell...
Leaving Ran with his mind occupied with the image of intense dark eyes peeling away the layers of his soul.
TSUZUKU