part 303: "I thought you realized that being with me meant we'd be deadpan together."
Previous installments are available through the "glass houses" LJ or DW tag on the entries or in my LJ Memories here. (Please make sure the Memory page is set to sort by Description to get the entries in the closest-to-correct order.) Or you can read it at its other home on Archive of Our Own.
"Glass Houses" part 303/?
By Viridian5
4/2003 - present
RATING: R. If m/m interaction bothers you, pass this by. AU.
SPOILERS: Kapitel and Glühen.
SUMMARY: After Aya's sister dies, Schwarz tries to save themselves and Aya from the mistakes of the Dramatic CDs and Glühen Schwarz tries to save him from himself--for their own reasons, of course--and neither they nor Weiß are ever the same again.
ARCHIVAL/DISTRIBUTION: No, not yet. This is a trial run of a piece of an unfinished fic.
DISCLAIMERS: All things Weiß Kreuz belong to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiß, Polygram k.k., and Animate Film. No infringement intended.
NOTES: Thanks to Graegal for the beta. Thanks to 'nat for "puisín," which she says probably sounds like "pu-sheen." Inspirational music includes Covenant's United States of Mind,
mayatawi's V Mix the Second CD (Jane Jensen, Kidneythieves, Poe's rock version of "Hello," Kristen Barry's "Ordinary Life," Lacuna Coil), Linkin Park's Meteora, A Perfect Circle's Thirteenth Step, Pigface's Easy Listening..., Shriekback's "The Bastard Sons of Enoch," Zeromancer's Eurotrash, and Neuroticfish's Les Chansons Neurotiques.
I am not responsible for any therapy bills incurred as a result of trauma from doing research on things mentioned in this story. If you look up, say, "butter dog porn" on your own, I refuse to take the blame. I've been told that it's a bad idea to eat soup or drink while reading "Glass Houses."
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"Glass Houses" part 303
By Viridian5
========================
Nagi awoke feeling far too warm and a bit confused about where he was. Physically and telekinetically he felt someone under the covers with him, one person too long to be Omi who had a different scent and the wrong calluses on the hand that rested on the bare skin of Nagi’s hip under his pajama shirt above the waistband of his bottoms. Too dark to see....
Then he remembered. *Aya*. Alone in bed with him. Because Aya loved him, or at least felt something close enough to it, needed him, and agreed to sharing a bed with him. He felt such an explosion of affectionate warmth and glee that it amazed him his body could hold it all. He was here and Aya was here and they were here *together*. They might end up telling Schwarz to kiss their asses as they ran away together, or just make a run for it after giving Crawford a single chance to make things right, something Nagi doubted Crawford could do.
Though he had to give the team some credit: if not for Schwarz’s intervention this warm, precious, and ridiculously pretty human being beside him would be dead and cremated, just ashes and bits of bones, and Nagi would never even know what he’d lost because he never would’ve come to really know Aya. Schwarz had taken Aya with them just to be a tool against Eszett and Farfarello’s toy but he’d become something more to Nagi, something Nagi had never had before and hadn’t known he wanted.
Though it was also possible that, without the effort of corralling Aya bringing the team closer together into a near family, Schwarz would’ve disbanded after destroying Rosenkreuz so a lot of his current problems with being in Schwarz wouldn’t even be an issue now because Nagi would be alone. Once being alone had been what he thought he wanted but these days he knew better. He had no idea who he’d be working for now in that version of his life or how happy or unhappy he’d be.
“I can’t sleep when you’re this tensed up,” Aya said softly, his breath stirring the hair at the top of Nagi’s head. “I’m sorry that I ended up holding you so closely that I’d even know you tensed up. I can move my--”
“Not necessary. I’m fine with where your hand is. In fact, feel free to touch several areas of my body.” That sounded desperate. “That kind of thing sounds better when Schuldig says it. Slimy and opportunistic, yes, but smoother.”
“I wouldn’t sleep with Schuldig like this.”
“Yay. That makes me feel special.”
“Was that meant to be sarcastic or not?”
Nagi grinned. “I thought you realized that being with me meant we’d be deadpan together.”
“You have to spell this stuff out for me sometimes.”
“Noted.”
“Are you okay? You did tense up.”
“It’s not because of you.”
“Good. But is it something I should worry about too?”
“No.” But *something* was niggling at Nagi. “Maybe.”
Aya didn’t want to go on the run if he didn’t have to and hoped Crawford could find a way to fix things. Nagi might be getting excited about having Aya all to himself and telling Schwarz to kiss his ass on his way out the door--just Nagi and Aya alone against the world--but *Aya* would rather return to the team and Farfarello if they’d treat him better. Nagi’s fantasy was Aya’s worst case scenario. Would it even be healthy for Aya to live a life constantly on the run and with only one person as a constant?
If they returned to Schwarz, Nagi probably wouldn’t get many nights like this. Cross off “many” and change it to “any.” Nagi said, “You still have feelings for Farfarello.”
“I won’t be his doormat or whore any longer but... yes,” Aya replied.
“Of course you do.” Because Aya didn’t give his loyalty lightly and once he did he’d maintain it unto death. “That makes things even more complicated.”
“I’m deeply sorry.” He sounded it. “I wish I could make all of it simpler, for both of us. Whatever I end up doing, you should do what makes you happiest. When we contact Crawford, we’ll give our ultimatums as to how the three of them need to treat us from now on to get us to return, in your case as much as mine.”
Nagi had wanted to have choices for a long time, but did it really count when all his choices were so shitty? “We really are terrible at vacationing.”
That surprised a laugh out of Aya. “Truly.”
“I’m going to have to think about what I should do and decide on it before talking to Crawford since he can sense weakness.”
“But you also need to have a good night’s sleep before doing that. You don’t want to wrangle with him when you’re not at your best.”
“I’m young. I’ll be fine. You’d be amazed by how little sleep I can run on.” But he could just about feel Aya’s disapproval, so Nagi said, “I’ll try.”
“Good. Is there a way I can help?”
Nagi knew he couldn’t say, “Fuck me into exhaustion,” no matter how much he wanted to, so instead he replied, “None I can think of right now.”
******************************************************
Crawford could sense the tension almost as soon as he walked out into the living room. Seeing the knife embedded in one of the walls added to the impression. Looking somewhat nervous and freaked out, Farfarello sat folded in on himself at one end of the couch, while Schuldig angrily watched TV at the other. Crawford had to ask, “What happened?”
Sounding icily insouciant, Schuldig replied, “Farfarello was mistaking my kindness for weakness so I had to teach him a lesson.”
“I had a feeling some kind of confrontation would happen out here but that you could handle it. I always enjoy being right.”
Good for Schuldig; Farfarello needed to be smacked down once in a while and he’d been begging for it lately. Let Farfarello remember how dangerous Schuldig could be and that his patience wasn’t infinite. Hopefully, Farfarello would also realize he shouldn’t alienate his best ally within the team.
“Brad, I think I know a way we can ask Kritiker for work without losing too much face, but *I’d* have to do it.” Schuldig directed a deadly look in Farfarello’s direction. “And *someone* would have to behave himself while I’m gone. *Behaving*, not stabbing or slashing you after getting offended or angry about anything since that’s something he’s recently shown himself to be capable of doing. I’m not sure Farfarello’s capable of behaving himself and wondering if I should ziptie him to something or telepathically knock him out before I leave. Of course, all of this depends on you being willing to let me go and do my plan, boss man.”
“I can behave myself,” Farfarello muttered.
Schuldig might be going a bit too far in chastising and belittling Farfarello, making him *too* resentful, but Crawford did get a little thrill seeing Schuldig like this.
“Really? You pulled a knife right up on me and claimed afterward you didn’t know whether you’d try to hurt or kill me with it,” Schuldig replied. “So, neither of us knows what might have happened if I hadn’t pulled a gun on you and shoved it up under your jaw with total intent to blow your brains out if you moved wrong. Thus, I don’t trust your judgment.”
That sounded considerably more dangerous than Crawford’s precognitive hunch had suggested, but it sounded like Schuldig *still* had it under control anyway. “If he can’t control himself, I can still defend myself,” Crawford said. “I’ll keep it in mind that he can’t control himself and plan accordingly in the future, but *I’ll* be fine.”
From the look on Farfarello’s face, he’d noticed the threat. Good.
Crawford enjoyed this kind of dark, take-charge mood on Schuldig, as long as he had someone else nearby to direct the dangerous end of it at. Knowing that Schwarz had enough money set aside to not *need* to get more jobs at the moment--though the all the members of the team seemed to run better when they *did* have work--and not really wanting to work for Kritiker anyway, he saw no reason not to indulge Schuldig and set him on Persia. “What *is* your plan?”
Schuldig grinned in a way that would scare most people.
******************************************************
Before Mamoru could open the door to his office, Katsura put her arm out to hold him back and said, “Takatori-sama, Schuldig is inside.”
“How did he get this deeply inside the building?” He had security cameras, guards, and employees who should damned well notice a very distinctive looking, Westerner, known *enemy* walking around. He didn’t have any of Schuldig’s many clones working in this area or closely around him precisely to prevent this kind of thing from being possible.
She had her gun in hand now. “I don’t know that. He appears to just be sitting there *waiting* inside.”
“I suppose we can just ask him. He’s so fast that he’s difficult to shoot,” Mamoru said. With his telepathy, skills, and preternatural speed, Schuldig--or some of his clones--would’ve been a great bodyguard for him. Too bad Schuldig was so damned *Schuldig*.
“I’m still game to try.”
He smiled at her but said, “Let’s see what he has to say. But keep your gun trained on him just in case.”
Schuldig sat at Mamoru’s *desk* as if he had a right to be there. Although he didn’t have his feet propped up on it in total relaxed disrespect, he might as well have. “Ah, Katsura noticed me before you opened the door. Good for you, Katsura-san!” Grinning, he applauded.
“Why are you here?” Mamoru asked.
“The situation in Tokyo’s underworld is highly volatile and unpredictable at the moment. Instead of stumbling into each other’s work, we propose that we coordinate and work together a bit. We’re amenable to doing so as a unit or individually, whatever works best per case.”
“Are you asking us to hire Schwarz?” Mamoru laughed. Asking to be hired while dressed very casually in black moto pants and what seemed to be a band T-shirt in an eye-searing shade of green under a trench coat. “Not asking with proper respect either. Why the hell should I pay you people for anything?”
Schuldig’s smile turned sharper. “While researching the current market, we’ve noticed that Kritiker has pruned Tokyo’s underworld in rather bizarre ways, weeding out some ‘evil’ groups while letting others flourish, which is what left it so unstable and unbalanced that it spiraled out of control and into chaos the way it has. We’re developing hypotheses as to why you did this, which I’m sure Aya will be thrilled to hear and go over with us when he returns. In the meantime, we *could* hire ourselves out to whomever and see how that affects your plans, which would also affect our hypotheses. Or you could just direct us and pay us to help your plans along instead.”
“You make it sound slimy. It’s not.” He had reasons. Reasons Schuldig didn’t need to know.
“Schwarz has more loyalty to and less judgment of someone who’s paying us. You’ve worked with us before.”
“You’ve been less of sneering pain in the ass attempting to blackmail me before. Also, Crawford is usually the one who sets things up.” While dealing with Schuldig reminded Mamoru of the way the telepath had toyed with him and gotten Ouka killed.
“He can be too proud about things sometimes. After the phone call earlier, the two of you in a room together might lead to a dick-measuring contest or glare-off, neither of which would accomplish much aside from wasting valuable time. He’s upset about how you treated Nagi too.”
Mamoru was upset with himself as well, especially since his actions had led to Nagi fleeing the country. “*You’re* not? You usually show emotion more than Crawford does.”
“I’m upset but willing to let you try to make it up to us. I’m more flexible than he is.”
Mamoru tried not to show how angry that made him and tried to really consider the offer. With all the chaos going on, he didn’t need to have a major beef with Schwarz happening simultaneously but he had his pride too. “Are you trying to tell me you’re Schwarz’s *diplomat*?”
Schuldig smiled. “I always have been.”
No. “Get the fuck out of my office,” Mamoru replied.
Schuldig’s smile widened, but he stood up. “Okay. Take some time to think about it. You know how to reach us.”
“You’ll be leaving the building with a Kritiker escort to make sure you *leave*.”
Schuldig didn’t bother to say that he’d likely be able to mess with his escort’s mind to make whomever *think* he’d left. He didn’t have to.
Mamoru summoned one of Kritiker’s new, highly trained telepaths and hoped for the best. After Schuldig left with that operative, Mamoru approached his desk to sit down but Katsura said, “Sir, let me check the desk and chair first.”
How had this become his life? Sure, he’d become Persia of his own free will, but he’d never foreseen any of this. Or just how lonely and isolating it could be.
He felt resentful as hell that Schuldig had made many very good points so he’d probably have to take Schwarz’s offer and hire those assholes and that Schuldig had obviously been aware of all of that.
******************************************************
The next time Aya woke up, it quickly became obvious that he might as well get up since he couldn’t go back to sleep. 10 a.m., an hour before their agreed-on time to start their day. Some sunlight fell through a gap in the blackout curtains, letting Aya see a bit of Nagi, who had his back to the windows. Nagi’s long bangs fell over his eyes, hiding them, but didn’t cover his small smile. Still asleep, he seemed peaceful, contented, small, and younger--though perhaps it might be that he seemed more his actual age--as he curled up against Aya.
A feeling of protectiveness surged through Aya but he figured that he shouldn’t tell Nagi about it. At best, Nagi might find his sentiment touching, though naïve, and would be amused by a swordsman thinking he needed to protect an alpha telekinetic. Nagi didn’t understand, and he probably wouldn’t agree that Aya might be one of the things he needed to be protected from.
With their bodies somewhat entangled, Aya didn’t think he could get out of bed without waking Nagi up, so he stayed put and tried not to think or worry so hard that he woke him anyway. Or at least to keep his shielding up enough as he did that.
Aya didn’t know why some people claimed that talking about things helped or made them feel better, because his two recent talks with Nagi made him feel like he’d stripped a few layers of his skin off, leaving him raw and unprotected. Plus, he felt so much regret. Given the choice, he really would’ve preferred to process his evolving feelings for Nagi longer before telling him anything and giving him the worst kind-of love confession of all time. Instead, the uncertain possibilities he’d offered seemed to have left Nagi feeling a hope that might be premature and disastrous.
It didn’t help that whatever the kind of love he felt for Nagi was, it didn’t currently include a sexual component. Nagi read as too young for that to him, too much like his sister or Omi, a little sibling. He knew Nagi wanted sex and had it with people and if that made Nagi happy, great, but Aya would prefer not to think of any of it any further. If his emotion leaned into *in* love with Nagi, he knew Nagi would want to have sex with him as part of that relationship because Nagi considered that a part of such relationships and had already wanted that from him for a long time. Knowing that he wasn’t *there* and might never get there made Aya feel even more insistent that Nagi shouldn’t throw away everything and everyone he knew for Aya’s sake, and he never wanted Nagi to think Aya’s lack of lust for him was because something was wrong with *Nagi*.
Their talk of love and being in love and how Farfarello would react to either had so quickly spun out into Nagi talking of what he appeared to see as some kind of romantic life on the run together that Aya had to try to immediately put those fires out instead of confessing even more personal things about himself and how he felt about Nagi. He hadn’t even gotten to a definitive “in love,” so why would he talk about sex? (He rarely felt comfortable talking about that.) Thinking by himself later, now, away from the heat and speed of their conversations, made him think that maybe he should have. Probably should have.
He probably would have to sometime soon after Nagi woke up, since Nagi needed to fully know what he was getting into and Aya didn’t want to make any false promises to him by omission. Aya would rather pull his own fingernails out or jump out a window than talk about this.
Honest personal confessions too often led to the need for even *more* honest personal confessions, one of the reasons Aya hated them.
He had a little less than an hour to try to distill his thoughts and feelings into words that would get his message across to Nagi in a way that hopefully wouldn’t hurt Nagi too much or make Aya inwardly cringe too hard. Both goals seemed impossible.
At least it partially distracted him from his problems over his feelings for Farfarello, what might happen to any of them next, and whether he might have to go on the run to protect himself and Nagi. He so wanted to be able to settle down in a place and/or amongst people where he could belong and feel secure and have some kind of longterm certainty about something, *anything*, in his life again.
His wants rarely aligned with the wants of the people around him for long.
Aya hated how he seemed to hurt and divide people just by existing amongst them. It always made him want to remove himself from the equation altogether. Unfortunately, not even that seemed to help, because he was no longer naïve enough to believe his death would help anyone else or fail to leave more pain and recriminations for everyone who survived him. Suicide seemed selfish and self-indulgent now. He couldn’t figure out a way out of the situation and its awful choices.
And he’d briefly felt happy just hours earlier.
Every time he felt like he didn’t have any more innocence left to lose, he found out otherwise. You can comment here or at the Dreamwidth crosspost.
comments at Dreamwidth.
"Glass Houses" part 303/?
By Viridian5
4/2003 - present
RATING: R. If m/m interaction bothers you, pass this by. AU.
SPOILERS: Kapitel and Glühen.
SUMMARY: After Aya's sister dies, Schwarz tries to save themselves and Aya from the mistakes of the Dramatic CDs and Glühen Schwarz tries to save him from himself--for their own reasons, of course--and neither they nor Weiß are ever the same again.
ARCHIVAL/DISTRIBUTION: No, not yet. This is a trial run of a piece of an unfinished fic.
DISCLAIMERS: All things Weiß Kreuz belong to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiß, Polygram k.k., and Animate Film. No infringement intended.
NOTES: Thanks to Graegal for the beta. Thanks to 'nat for "puisín," which she says probably sounds like "pu-sheen." Inspirational music includes Covenant's United States of Mind,
mayatawi's V Mix the Second CD (Jane Jensen, Kidneythieves, Poe's rock version of "Hello," Kristen Barry's "Ordinary Life," Lacuna Coil), Linkin Park's Meteora, A Perfect Circle's Thirteenth Step, Pigface's Easy Listening..., Shriekback's "The Bastard Sons of Enoch," Zeromancer's Eurotrash, and Neuroticfish's Les Chansons Neurotiques.
I am not responsible for any therapy bills incurred as a result of trauma from doing research on things mentioned in this story. If you look up, say, "butter dog porn" on your own, I refuse to take the blame. I've been told that it's a bad idea to eat soup or drink while reading "Glass Houses."
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"Glass Houses" part 303
By Viridian5
========================
Nagi awoke feeling far too warm and a bit confused about where he was. Physically and telekinetically he felt someone under the covers with him, one person too long to be Omi who had a different scent and the wrong calluses on the hand that rested on the bare skin of Nagi’s hip under his pajama shirt above the waistband of his bottoms. Too dark to see....
Then he remembered. *Aya*. Alone in bed with him. Because Aya loved him, or at least felt something close enough to it, needed him, and agreed to sharing a bed with him. He felt such an explosion of affectionate warmth and glee that it amazed him his body could hold it all. He was here and Aya was here and they were here *together*. They might end up telling Schwarz to kiss their asses as they ran away together, or just make a run for it after giving Crawford a single chance to make things right, something Nagi doubted Crawford could do.
Though he had to give the team some credit: if not for Schwarz’s intervention this warm, precious, and ridiculously pretty human being beside him would be dead and cremated, just ashes and bits of bones, and Nagi would never even know what he’d lost because he never would’ve come to really know Aya. Schwarz had taken Aya with them just to be a tool against Eszett and Farfarello’s toy but he’d become something more to Nagi, something Nagi had never had before and hadn’t known he wanted.
Though it was also possible that, without the effort of corralling Aya bringing the team closer together into a near family, Schwarz would’ve disbanded after destroying Rosenkreuz so a lot of his current problems with being in Schwarz wouldn’t even be an issue now because Nagi would be alone. Once being alone had been what he thought he wanted but these days he knew better. He had no idea who he’d be working for now in that version of his life or how happy or unhappy he’d be.
“I can’t sleep when you’re this tensed up,” Aya said softly, his breath stirring the hair at the top of Nagi’s head. “I’m sorry that I ended up holding you so closely that I’d even know you tensed up. I can move my--”
“Not necessary. I’m fine with where your hand is. In fact, feel free to touch several areas of my body.” That sounded desperate. “That kind of thing sounds better when Schuldig says it. Slimy and opportunistic, yes, but smoother.”
“I wouldn’t sleep with Schuldig like this.”
“Yay. That makes me feel special.”
“Was that meant to be sarcastic or not?”
Nagi grinned. “I thought you realized that being with me meant we’d be deadpan together.”
“You have to spell this stuff out for me sometimes.”
“Noted.”
“Are you okay? You did tense up.”
“It’s not because of you.”
“Good. But is it something I should worry about too?”
“No.” But *something* was niggling at Nagi. “Maybe.”
Aya didn’t want to go on the run if he didn’t have to and hoped Crawford could find a way to fix things. Nagi might be getting excited about having Aya all to himself and telling Schwarz to kiss his ass on his way out the door--just Nagi and Aya alone against the world--but *Aya* would rather return to the team and Farfarello if they’d treat him better. Nagi’s fantasy was Aya’s worst case scenario. Would it even be healthy for Aya to live a life constantly on the run and with only one person as a constant?
If they returned to Schwarz, Nagi probably wouldn’t get many nights like this. Cross off “many” and change it to “any.” Nagi said, “You still have feelings for Farfarello.”
“I won’t be his doormat or whore any longer but... yes,” Aya replied.
“Of course you do.” Because Aya didn’t give his loyalty lightly and once he did he’d maintain it unto death. “That makes things even more complicated.”
“I’m deeply sorry.” He sounded it. “I wish I could make all of it simpler, for both of us. Whatever I end up doing, you should do what makes you happiest. When we contact Crawford, we’ll give our ultimatums as to how the three of them need to treat us from now on to get us to return, in your case as much as mine.”
Nagi had wanted to have choices for a long time, but did it really count when all his choices were so shitty? “We really are terrible at vacationing.”
That surprised a laugh out of Aya. “Truly.”
“I’m going to have to think about what I should do and decide on it before talking to Crawford since he can sense weakness.”
“But you also need to have a good night’s sleep before doing that. You don’t want to wrangle with him when you’re not at your best.”
“I’m young. I’ll be fine. You’d be amazed by how little sleep I can run on.” But he could just about feel Aya’s disapproval, so Nagi said, “I’ll try.”
“Good. Is there a way I can help?”
Nagi knew he couldn’t say, “Fuck me into exhaustion,” no matter how much he wanted to, so instead he replied, “None I can think of right now.”
******************************************************
Crawford could sense the tension almost as soon as he walked out into the living room. Seeing the knife embedded in one of the walls added to the impression. Looking somewhat nervous and freaked out, Farfarello sat folded in on himself at one end of the couch, while Schuldig angrily watched TV at the other. Crawford had to ask, “What happened?”
Sounding icily insouciant, Schuldig replied, “Farfarello was mistaking my kindness for weakness so I had to teach him a lesson.”
“I had a feeling some kind of confrontation would happen out here but that you could handle it. I always enjoy being right.”
Good for Schuldig; Farfarello needed to be smacked down once in a while and he’d been begging for it lately. Let Farfarello remember how dangerous Schuldig could be and that his patience wasn’t infinite. Hopefully, Farfarello would also realize he shouldn’t alienate his best ally within the team.
“Brad, I think I know a way we can ask Kritiker for work without losing too much face, but *I’d* have to do it.” Schuldig directed a deadly look in Farfarello’s direction. “And *someone* would have to behave himself while I’m gone. *Behaving*, not stabbing or slashing you after getting offended or angry about anything since that’s something he’s recently shown himself to be capable of doing. I’m not sure Farfarello’s capable of behaving himself and wondering if I should ziptie him to something or telepathically knock him out before I leave. Of course, all of this depends on you being willing to let me go and do my plan, boss man.”
“I can behave myself,” Farfarello muttered.
Schuldig might be going a bit too far in chastising and belittling Farfarello, making him *too* resentful, but Crawford did get a little thrill seeing Schuldig like this.
“Really? You pulled a knife right up on me and claimed afterward you didn’t know whether you’d try to hurt or kill me with it,” Schuldig replied. “So, neither of us knows what might have happened if I hadn’t pulled a gun on you and shoved it up under your jaw with total intent to blow your brains out if you moved wrong. Thus, I don’t trust your judgment.”
That sounded considerably more dangerous than Crawford’s precognitive hunch had suggested, but it sounded like Schuldig *still* had it under control anyway. “If he can’t control himself, I can still defend myself,” Crawford said. “I’ll keep it in mind that he can’t control himself and plan accordingly in the future, but *I’ll* be fine.”
From the look on Farfarello’s face, he’d noticed the threat. Good.
Crawford enjoyed this kind of dark, take-charge mood on Schuldig, as long as he had someone else nearby to direct the dangerous end of it at. Knowing that Schwarz had enough money set aside to not *need* to get more jobs at the moment--though the all the members of the team seemed to run better when they *did* have work--and not really wanting to work for Kritiker anyway, he saw no reason not to indulge Schuldig and set him on Persia. “What *is* your plan?”
Schuldig grinned in a way that would scare most people.
******************************************************
Before Mamoru could open the door to his office, Katsura put her arm out to hold him back and said, “Takatori-sama, Schuldig is inside.”
“How did he get this deeply inside the building?” He had security cameras, guards, and employees who should damned well notice a very distinctive looking, Westerner, known *enemy* walking around. He didn’t have any of Schuldig’s many clones working in this area or closely around him precisely to prevent this kind of thing from being possible.
She had her gun in hand now. “I don’t know that. He appears to just be sitting there *waiting* inside.”
“I suppose we can just ask him. He’s so fast that he’s difficult to shoot,” Mamoru said. With his telepathy, skills, and preternatural speed, Schuldig--or some of his clones--would’ve been a great bodyguard for him. Too bad Schuldig was so damned *Schuldig*.
“I’m still game to try.”
He smiled at her but said, “Let’s see what he has to say. But keep your gun trained on him just in case.”
Schuldig sat at Mamoru’s *desk* as if he had a right to be there. Although he didn’t have his feet propped up on it in total relaxed disrespect, he might as well have. “Ah, Katsura noticed me before you opened the door. Good for you, Katsura-san!” Grinning, he applauded.
“Why are you here?” Mamoru asked.
“The situation in Tokyo’s underworld is highly volatile and unpredictable at the moment. Instead of stumbling into each other’s work, we propose that we coordinate and work together a bit. We’re amenable to doing so as a unit or individually, whatever works best per case.”
“Are you asking us to hire Schwarz?” Mamoru laughed. Asking to be hired while dressed very casually in black moto pants and what seemed to be a band T-shirt in an eye-searing shade of green under a trench coat. “Not asking with proper respect either. Why the hell should I pay you people for anything?”
Schuldig’s smile turned sharper. “While researching the current market, we’ve noticed that Kritiker has pruned Tokyo’s underworld in rather bizarre ways, weeding out some ‘evil’ groups while letting others flourish, which is what left it so unstable and unbalanced that it spiraled out of control and into chaos the way it has. We’re developing hypotheses as to why you did this, which I’m sure Aya will be thrilled to hear and go over with us when he returns. In the meantime, we *could* hire ourselves out to whomever and see how that affects your plans, which would also affect our hypotheses. Or you could just direct us and pay us to help your plans along instead.”
“You make it sound slimy. It’s not.” He had reasons. Reasons Schuldig didn’t need to know.
“Schwarz has more loyalty to and less judgment of someone who’s paying us. You’ve worked with us before.”
“You’ve been less of sneering pain in the ass attempting to blackmail me before. Also, Crawford is usually the one who sets things up.” While dealing with Schuldig reminded Mamoru of the way the telepath had toyed with him and gotten Ouka killed.
“He can be too proud about things sometimes. After the phone call earlier, the two of you in a room together might lead to a dick-measuring contest or glare-off, neither of which would accomplish much aside from wasting valuable time. He’s upset about how you treated Nagi too.”
Mamoru was upset with himself as well, especially since his actions had led to Nagi fleeing the country. “*You’re* not? You usually show emotion more than Crawford does.”
“I’m upset but willing to let you try to make it up to us. I’m more flexible than he is.”
Mamoru tried not to show how angry that made him and tried to really consider the offer. With all the chaos going on, he didn’t need to have a major beef with Schwarz happening simultaneously but he had his pride too. “Are you trying to tell me you’re Schwarz’s *diplomat*?”
Schuldig smiled. “I always have been.”
No. “Get the fuck out of my office,” Mamoru replied.
Schuldig’s smile widened, but he stood up. “Okay. Take some time to think about it. You know how to reach us.”
“You’ll be leaving the building with a Kritiker escort to make sure you *leave*.”
Schuldig didn’t bother to say that he’d likely be able to mess with his escort’s mind to make whomever *think* he’d left. He didn’t have to.
Mamoru summoned one of Kritiker’s new, highly trained telepaths and hoped for the best. After Schuldig left with that operative, Mamoru approached his desk to sit down but Katsura said, “Sir, let me check the desk and chair first.”
How had this become his life? Sure, he’d become Persia of his own free will, but he’d never foreseen any of this. Or just how lonely and isolating it could be.
He felt resentful as hell that Schuldig had made many very good points so he’d probably have to take Schwarz’s offer and hire those assholes and that Schuldig had obviously been aware of all of that.
******************************************************
The next time Aya woke up, it quickly became obvious that he might as well get up since he couldn’t go back to sleep. 10 a.m., an hour before their agreed-on time to start their day. Some sunlight fell through a gap in the blackout curtains, letting Aya see a bit of Nagi, who had his back to the windows. Nagi’s long bangs fell over his eyes, hiding them, but didn’t cover his small smile. Still asleep, he seemed peaceful, contented, small, and younger--though perhaps it might be that he seemed more his actual age--as he curled up against Aya.
A feeling of protectiveness surged through Aya but he figured that he shouldn’t tell Nagi about it. At best, Nagi might find his sentiment touching, though naïve, and would be amused by a swordsman thinking he needed to protect an alpha telekinetic. Nagi didn’t understand, and he probably wouldn’t agree that Aya might be one of the things he needed to be protected from.
With their bodies somewhat entangled, Aya didn’t think he could get out of bed without waking Nagi up, so he stayed put and tried not to think or worry so hard that he woke him anyway. Or at least to keep his shielding up enough as he did that.
Aya didn’t know why some people claimed that talking about things helped or made them feel better, because his two recent talks with Nagi made him feel like he’d stripped a few layers of his skin off, leaving him raw and unprotected. Plus, he felt so much regret. Given the choice, he really would’ve preferred to process his evolving feelings for Nagi longer before telling him anything and giving him the worst kind-of love confession of all time. Instead, the uncertain possibilities he’d offered seemed to have left Nagi feeling a hope that might be premature and disastrous.
It didn’t help that whatever the kind of love he felt for Nagi was, it didn’t currently include a sexual component. Nagi read as too young for that to him, too much like his sister or Omi, a little sibling. He knew Nagi wanted sex and had it with people and if that made Nagi happy, great, but Aya would prefer not to think of any of it any further. If his emotion leaned into *in* love with Nagi, he knew Nagi would want to have sex with him as part of that relationship because Nagi considered that a part of such relationships and had already wanted that from him for a long time. Knowing that he wasn’t *there* and might never get there made Aya feel even more insistent that Nagi shouldn’t throw away everything and everyone he knew for Aya’s sake, and he never wanted Nagi to think Aya’s lack of lust for him was because something was wrong with *Nagi*.
Their talk of love and being in love and how Farfarello would react to either had so quickly spun out into Nagi talking of what he appeared to see as some kind of romantic life on the run together that Aya had to try to immediately put those fires out instead of confessing even more personal things about himself and how he felt about Nagi. He hadn’t even gotten to a definitive “in love,” so why would he talk about sex? (He rarely felt comfortable talking about that.) Thinking by himself later, now, away from the heat and speed of their conversations, made him think that maybe he should have. Probably should have.
He probably would have to sometime soon after Nagi woke up, since Nagi needed to fully know what he was getting into and Aya didn’t want to make any false promises to him by omission. Aya would rather pull his own fingernails out or jump out a window than talk about this.
Honest personal confessions too often led to the need for even *more* honest personal confessions, one of the reasons Aya hated them.
He had a little less than an hour to try to distill his thoughts and feelings into words that would get his message across to Nagi in a way that hopefully wouldn’t hurt Nagi too much or make Aya inwardly cringe too hard. Both goals seemed impossible.
At least it partially distracted him from his problems over his feelings for Farfarello, what might happen to any of them next, and whether he might have to go on the run to protect himself and Nagi. He so wanted to be able to settle down in a place and/or amongst people where he could belong and feel secure and have some kind of longterm certainty about something, *anything*, in his life again.
His wants rarely aligned with the wants of the people around him for long.
Aya hated how he seemed to hurt and divide people just by existing amongst them. It always made him want to remove himself from the equation altogether. Unfortunately, not even that seemed to help, because he was no longer naïve enough to believe his death would help anyone else or fail to leave more pain and recriminations for everyone who survived him. Suicide seemed selfish and self-indulgent now. He couldn’t figure out a way out of the situation and its awful choices.
And he’d briefly felt happy just hours earlier.
Every time he felt like he didn’t have any more innocence left to lose, he found out otherwise. You can comment here or at the Dreamwidth crosspost.
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