Chapter Four Omi's perspective

Screaming. I awoke to the sound of screaming. Only when I regained consciousness did I realise it was my own.

"Omi?" The door to the guestroom opened to expose Nagi with the light from the rest of the flat to act as a background that illuminated the black satin pyjamas he was wearing. His voice sounded curious rather than concerned, though someone that had gotten the opportunity to observe him for an extended period of time like me would have known he was from his fairly tense posture.

"Just a dream," I explained softly. Instinctively, I drew my legs to my chest and hugged my knees due to the reality that I was still shaken from my nightmare and I wanted to hide myself from Nagi. My fellow Weiss members would have yenned that I hadn't displayed weakness in front of a nemesis, though I could not withhold the impulse, for there wasn't even a remote possibility that I looked half as elegant as he did at that moment. Not a strand of his chocolate brown hair was out of place and since I'd been sleeping I knew mine must have been atrocious. Why didn't his hair become untidy when he slept? Had he been asleep?

"I'd let you use the phone to call your friends since our line is untraceable, but it only works for voices it recognises. I programmed it that way."

"Oh, that's why it didn't work. That's brilliant." When he blinked in surprise I said, "You didn't think I wouldn't try to contact my team, did you?" Without awaiting a response I reiterated to myself, "Just a dream."

"About your childhood? Schuldich told us it wasn't that great."

Peering at the floor and recollecting the kidnappers, I nodded mutely.

"That happens to me."

"You picture my childhood?"

"No. Mine." His articulation insinuated that he found the question idiotic.

I was embarrassed, yet I was more inquisitive, ergo I prompted looking up at him, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He gave an insubstantial shrug. "I never scream." It was not a derogatory remark to force me to feel inferior, just a comment Nagi made because he didn't appear to know what else to say. I imagined he was unacquainted with providing people with sympathy. "Are you going to be okay by yourself or..."

I'll show him how to comfort people. I sat up straighter and patted the bed to indicate that he should sit. "You can talk to me about your nightmares. You seem to already know what mine are about."

Nagi stood completely frozen for nearly an entire minute as he judged my offer. I couldn't begin to speculate what was filtering through his mind. Eventually, he slowly paced over and seated himself beside me, yet not so close that we touched. "You want to hear my history?"

"If you're willing to tell I'm willing to listen." I smiled encouragingly. He scrutinised me as if I had said something incomprehensible to him. Maybe I did considering the type of treatment he was presumably accustomed to. Uncertainty clouded his features while he excogitated the proposal. I understood; enemies should not affirm their personal cryptic information to one another.

Despite this, he went on to describe his childhood in a hollow tone with a faraway lacquer over his eyes that resulted in it seeming that he was drawling to himself instead of me. "I don't know anything about my parents. They were probably homeless drunks or self-centered rich people that didn't want a baby that mysteriously made objects fall off of shelves when he cried. Either way, I grew up in an orphanage where the employees would force us to do work akin to slave labour in an underground factory as soon as we could walk. It was hot and dark, and they fed us very little so when I was six I ran away.

"The streets weren't much better. I got sick so often that I'm immune to most common illnesses now. Still, I had better food since I could my powers to take things without anyone noticing.

"One day when I was nine I left the car in the junkyard I was sleeping in at the time to get some clothes because I didn't have any that fit. I found a promising jacket up a tree that didn't look like it belonged to anybody. I'd always been short for my age, so I had no hope of reaching the bottom branch and climbing up the tree to retrieve it. My gaze flicked around to ensure that no one was watching and that they wouldn't be for several seconds. Then I raised my hand and the jacket came to me. I had already mastered my skill well. Satisfied, I put it on.

"'Well, that was impressive,' said a voice from behind me that made me jump. A man wearing glasses and a designer suit came toward me.

"'I miscalculated,' I muttered to myself. Nobody was supposed to have seen me. By that time I'd learned not anyone had my ability 'cause when people saw me use it they would beat me for being, as they so eloquently put it, a freak.

"'Miscalculated? Big word for someone so tiny. So, you're psychic and clever." He seemed smug.

"I glared at him, though considering how small I was it feasibly wasn't intimidating. 'What do you want?'

"'I want you to come home with me to get a good meal and a bath.' That sounded wonderful, for I couldn't remember the last time I'd had either, however, you don't spend years on the streets without learning to be wary of strangers and that people don't help each other unless they benefit from it. Only old women gave me stuff for no reason since they thought I was helpless and cute.

"'What's in it for you?'

"'Would you believe me if I told you that I assume one day you'll be very powerful and a valuable asset to me?'

"'No,' I answered truthfully. I thought I was useless street trash that had an abnormality that prevented me from being friends with other children like I wanted to, even if those children didn't sound as smart as me when I hid near them and listened to their games.

"He smirked. 'Then don't worry. There's no catch. I just understand what it's like to be an outsider.' Did he? I didn't think anyone knew how I felt. Alone. Bizarre. Unwanted. I was suspicious, but I want with him anyway. He enacted rich and because I'd been molested twice and beaten countless times I didn't think there was anything new he could do to me.

"I wound up staying with him for several weeks more than I anticipated, and although I perceived him having me lift knives with my mind and throw them at a target weren't normal games for an adult to play with a child he provided me with a semblance of a home and he rarely hit me, so I didn't care." It appeared that Nagi could finally see me again. "Crawford rescued me from the streets even if it was for his own purposes and when I was eleven I started to make my own my money."

My jaw dropped transiently. "You started killing at eleven? Persia didn't have me do a solo mission until I was thirteen." I missed Persia, yet I would not allow myself to develop into a depression when Nagi needed support whether he acted like it or not. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You did nothing," he stated mildly.

"It's still horrible. You're not a bad person, Nagi, and you didn't deserve that." I decided to take a risk and slip my arms around his shoulders. I was, after all, trying to teach him solace. He stiffened, which did not surprise me since he was most likely unfamiliar with affection, but then he relaxed in my embrace and put his head on my chest. The repetitive rhythm of my heartbeat soon lulled him into slumber.

The light from the other room continued to spill in from the open doorway. It fell upon Nagi's pale face making his skin resemble porcelain. I stared down at Nagi's gorgeous face, noting how his little angular nose was the perfect fit for it. I memorised how his bangs brushed against his closed eyelids and the curves of his short dark lashes. Inexplicably my stare drifted to his lips. They were sleek and thin on his small kissable mouth. Kiss? I desperately wanted to kiss him and he was asleep so he wouldn't know. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him, right?

I leaned closer and could feel his steady breathing. I tasted the air he had just exhaled and felt giddy. My lips touched his gently. They were as soft as I envisioned. I experienced the wonder of his breath flowing in and out of my mouth. I was dizzy with mirth and wished to go further, though I fretted I'd awaken him, thus I settled for skimming my tongue on his upper lip. He might have whimpered with gratification, yet that was probably my own wishful thinking. Nagi was too intelligent to be attracted to a foe.

At least I enveloped him now. I smiled and rested my chin on the top of his head. His hair smelled fantastic. I wondered what shampoo he used. With this thought I too fell into a doze. Content that when I woke I could inspect Nagi again.

Minerva's Note: I like this chapter because we know very little of Nagi's past and I enjoyed myself elaborating on it, so I expect at least 4 reviews again, especially since I only received one for my last chappie. It may seem demanding to you, but it upsets me; I work hard on this fic and I don't feel like many people appreciate it.