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::Aya brushed his long fingers against Ken's cheek, smiling with blood-flecked lips. He gave a last sigh before falling back into his lover's strong arms...:: Ken awoke with a choked gasp, finding himself tangled inescapably within his sweat soaked sheets. The memories attacked during the one moment he had had to sleep, violent visions of every terrible death he or the others had suffered. With careful movements, the assassin freed himself from his cloth bonds, groaning with every muscle that protested. What he had done was foolishhe grasped a lot of magic with very little skill. The price was extolled heavily on his battered body. He sat on the edge of his bed, wincing at the slats of sunlight that fell on his tired eyes. The sun was low in the sky, a few hours from sunset at most. Ken had slept away almost an entire day and didn't have the energy to show for it. A hesitant knock at the door brought him slowly to his feet. With the way his body threatening to collapse on itself, he knew he should probably go back to bed. He didn't need to answer the door or hear the questioning "Ken-kun?" to know that it was Omi standing worriedly outside his room. Just as Ken could feel the magic of the world, touch and twist it to his will, he could feel the very essence that was Omi: a bright warmth in a world beyond sight. The young assassin was very pleasing to sense, and gave off energy like a furnace, often keeping his teammates going long after their own power had drained. He opened the door to admit a very surprised young boy. Limpid blue eyes were filled with exhaustion, but a bright smile lit the pale face. "Hai, Omittchi?" "We did not think you would wake today." He smiled. "Youji was ready to throw you into the shower, conscious or not. " Ken could feel Omi's discomfort below the cheery smile. The boy was unsure of what he had experienced at the Clavicula Nox, and terrified of the memories it brought to the surface. He had enough nightmares of his own without borrowing from the sad visions of the past thousand years. "Birman is here." The statement startled Omi, the smile fading for a moment. It would take time to get accustomed to the almost Schwarz like powers his teammate started exhibit. He shuddered suddenly as Ken gave him a knowing smile, as if his last thought had not been to himself. "Don't worry, Omi. Things
will become much clearer soon. You'll see." Ken strode from
his room, not even caring about the fact that he was wearing
nothing but faded pajama bottoms and an old soccer jersey. He looked back over his shoulder, waiting for Omi to follow. It was a tense moment before the youth began to move, hand rising slightly to get Ken's attention. Ken pulled the thought across
their connection. "She saw Nagi sleeping on the couch didn't
she?" To be expected, I suppose, Ken thought, for Aya it will be hardest to realize that Nagi has saved his life...and died for him...a thousand times over. Will it be enough for White to see past Black? §*§*§*§*§ "Do you trust him?" Ken frowned at Birman's question. She had become stonily silent upon discovering Nagi's sleeping form on their couch upstairs, the boy physically and mentally drained from his near death ordeal. The dark haired assassin felt the same way himself, but still found the energy to keep going until he was sure his team was all right. Weiß offered no explanation to his presence as they followed Persia's right hand down into the mission room, and she had confronted them before they had all had the chance to take a seat. Siberian thought a moment, knowing
that what she wanted to hear just wasn't true any longer. "Yes." Unfamiliar hesitancy stayed Aya's automatic response. They all agreed to keep what had happened last night to themselves for the time being. Half grayed memories haunted Aya, the conflict between past and present leaving him with a wicked migraine and the desire to kill something. Ken could explain nothing, leaving the other three members of Weiß with cryptic answers and a silent plea in his gray-green eyes to please believe him. "I trust Ken." Youji laughed shortly. His had been the loudest voice of protest over keeping Nagi with them instead of handing the telekinetic over to Kritiker for study. "Well, we all seem determined to sign our fate over" Tiredly, he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "I trust Ken as well." Omi didn't hesitate to agree. "We can't explain it, Birman. Maybe we willbut for now" Young blue eyes looked to Ken with desperate hope. "I trust you." The Kritiker agent turned and ascended the metal stairs, casting a long look back over her shoulder. "I do not trust you, Siberian, nor your judgment in this matter." She sighed. "If you insist on tempting fate..." Ken slumped to the floor as she left, head buried in his hands. His body trembled with exhaustion, and he fought to remain awake. Birman hadn't wasted anytime in approaching them for a debriefing. As tired as he was, his team needed him to help them through the transition from mere mortal assassins to warlock protectors. He winced as gentle hands dragged him to a standing position. Every ache and cut returned with a vengeance, each clamoring for his attention. He glanced about with bleary eyes. Youji and Omi were nowhere to be seen. Kami, did I fall asleep? Aya steadied him as he swayed against the tall boy, limbs clumsy as they slowly made their way upstairs. Ken was dully aware of falling into his bed and his red headed caretaker carefully stripping him of his ruined clothing. The pain returned quickly as cool fingers brushed against the pink burn on his arms and face. It had been much worse hours ago, but now that Ken had recovered his touch with the magic, he had slowly been trying to heal his injuries. What he really needed now was about a week's worth of sleep and he would be good as new. "Ken?" The dark haired assassin groaned as he tried to meet Aya's eyes, concerned with the despair he could see hovering just beyond the carefully controlled mask that had helped the other boy deal with his life so far. "I'm fine, Aya, I promise. I'll just go up and check on Nagi." Violet eyes narrowed at the mention of the strange boy who had spent the night on the couch after spending a good part of his young life trying to kill Weiß, but the redhead helped Ken into a new pair of cotton bottoms anyway. Aya knew that he trusted Ken's judgment and that would have to be enough. It didn't mean that he had to share that judgment. §*§*§*§*§ ::The kiss was blistering, the lips soft and pliant beneath his own. Nagi could only gasp in pleasure as Omi plundered his all too willing mouth...:: Nagi woke slowly from the memory,
relieved that the pain he had come to associate with the flashes
was blessedly absent. It was no longer a fight for his past lives
to find the surface of his consciousness. He pulled himself into a sitting position, swinging his legs around until he was sitting comfortably on the couch. Light from the windows indicated it was early evening; he had slept for a good many hours. Ignoring the urge to fall back to sleep, the telekinetic stood, stretching the newly healed muscles and tendons of his back. He noticed with embarrassment that he had become slightly aroused by the dream and though he would have liked to continue the fantasy, he wasn't comfortable with the idea of his one-time enemies as erotic material. The arousal was short lived as the sound of someone clearing their throat brought his gaze into contact with that of a beautifuland incredibly pissed off, woman. He smiled tentatively, suddenly sure that she was the liaison between Weiß and Kritiker. Fortunately, Omi stepped in for quick moment, meaning to wake Nagi. He smiled when he saw Birman and turned her from the boy Schwarz. Her flinty gaze did not waver though, even as she was led from the room. Omi's head popped around the corner a second later. "Why don't you go to the roof, Nagi? This may take a while." Suddenly glad that he was not a true member of the assassin team Weiß, Nagi hurried to dress, before dashing up the stairs to the gravel-covered roof. Recalling the fear that the woman's look could very well kill him, Nagi was glad indeed. §*§*§*§*§ "Nagi?" Nagi didn't even have to turn around as he felt Ken's tired presence through the magic that hummed between them like a living thing. The very air he inhaled was filled with magic that rippled through and around his body; he could sense the movements of the other warlock as he disturbed the lines of power etched in the air. The former Schwarz had sought refuge on the roof of the new Koneko, uncomfortable in the presence of those he had once believed his enemy and now felt an unnatural brotherhood with. Omi and Youji seemed to ignore the fact the he was there better than the icy red headed, Aya. Nagi fled from under the flinty amethyst gaze, knowing it would be better to stay out of their way for now. He had been staring over the rooftops of Tokyo for hours, at Bombay's suggestion, watching the slow progress of the sun across the sky. The others had been resting before their debriefing with the angry Birman, agreeing not to retell the incredulous story that they wouldn't have believed themselves if they hadn't just lived through it. Birman had been pissed off about Nagi as it was without hoping for her swallow the twisted fantasy that had just become their reality. The dark haired Weiß joined him at the edge of the roof, leaning on his strong arms. Siberian had changed into a short-sleeved button up, his arms and chest wrapped with gauze. He would heal faster than the others would, since he was open again to the magic, but he had burned himself out healing Nagi's wounds. The magic was slowly seeping back into this body. Nagi glanced over at the other assassin, noting the pale draw to his features. If the exhaustion he was suffering was only an echo of Nagi's, then the other boy was close to falling into a heap and not moving for a week. "Hidaka-san." Ken smiled slightly at the formal greeting. "We are closer than brothers, Nagi." Or lovers, Nagi's mind supplied quickly, causing the boy to flush. Strange feelings were another reason he had wanted to be alone. He found himself looking at the other assassins in a way he was unprepared to handle just yet. Ken seemed to sense his discomfort. His smile disappeared beneath an exhausted sigh. "The others will come around once their memory returns." Ah, yes, memories Nagi thought, still sifting through the thousands of memories that had slammed into his consciousness along with Weiß's power. The past negated everything he had come to believe in his present. He knew evil and he knew it was his destiny to stop it, not be a part of it. He wondered if he would have met that fate if he had remained ignorant and stayed with Schwarz. "The memories have never been hidden so well." Ken snorted. "Yuki went out of her way to make sure she did nothing to stir them until the last moment. She left the world domination plans up to Aste this time." The dark haired assassin swayed with anger. "So much has happened to us. I can't recall a lifetime where any of us suffered so much..." Nagi fixed Ken with a sympathetic stare. "A force greater than that witch controlled our Fate, Ken." He turned to study his companion, noting the bruises that still marred the pale cheeks. "The darkness has never been so strongthe human world is so full of hate and anger. Aste feeds on the greed of Man, and ready themselves to discard the pawns." He gasped as Ken swayed, dangerously close to falling face first into the gravel at his feet. "Aya will kill me if you don't get to bed. The sun's gone as it is. The memories can wait until morning." The dark haired warlock said nothing as he was led from the roof, arm draped about Nagi's supple neck. Cold shock passed through his skin and they both gasped. The younger boy did not let go, but dug his fingers bruisingly into Ken's side. "Ken...what are you..." Siberian did not answer as he was swept up in the sudden contact with Nagi's presence. The young Schwarz was more powerful than himself at this point, having had minor control of his ability for his short lifetime. It was a natural instinct that had developed among the warlocks of Weiß. A web of power connected them to each other, allowing for degrees of empathy, telepathyKen could feel Youji's old heartbreak from a floor away. The bond was undeniable, unbreakablethere even when the memories were not. It allowed for the sharing of power, and the comfort of an intimate connection that most humans never experienced. ::We are Hidaka Ken. The Key.:: Nagi drew every wall-building lesson Schuldich had drilled into his head, for his own sanity as well as the dark haired boy's. Ken's pain no longer flooded his mind, and the flow diminished with every breath. It had been like trying to live Ken's lifetime in a few seconds. None of them were ready for that. Ken was even more drained as he felt Nagi exert some control over the accidental bond. It would strengthen and refine itself as time went on, but Ken hadn't the energy to prevent it. Once he was sure Ken wasn't going to pass out, Nagi began the arduous journey to the stairs, pausing often to let the exhausted assassin catch his breath. Ken couldn't even remember the last few meters to his room. All he was aware of was a familiar mattress under his back, and warm blankets tucked about his chin. Nagi knelt next to the bed, watching with fascination as Ken dropped off. His mind still thrummed from the intimate contact with the other assassin. "Ken, what is the Key?" The phrase brought a small frown from the nearly unconscious boy. "The Key? The Key of Night..." A great yawn interrupted the thought and the blue-gray eyes drifted shut. "In the morning...when they remember..." "Hai, Ken-kun. The morning then." §*§*§*§*§ Schuldich screamed with rage,
sending the last of his furniture into the wall with an unsatisfactory
crack. He was past vocal obscenities. The telepath had cursed in the five languages he had picked up in his travels, mostly in Japanese and English. Soon his voice gave out from the screaming and he was left with just the voice in his head. He began tossing the remains of his room at the battered walls, using his uncontrolled anger to keep himself from breaking into hysterical tears. His bed had been overturned, sheets cut to viscous shreds. The strips fluttered helplessly against his ankles as he waded through the destruction, desperate for something more to vent his fury on. The bed frame itself had been scored with his knife, one post tottering on nothing more than a toothpick as it struggled to remain upright. The German searched his upturned
dresser again, still unwilling to take the knife to his clothing.
The drawers were cracked from his flurry of kicking. He glanced
back over his shoulder and realized that he had pretty much broken
everything he could, and shredded or cut that which could not
be shattered. He had even begun mutilating the walls before realizing
that other things were easier to get to. ::Are you quite finished?:: Brad's cool question made the
German smile. His teammates had been cautious around him, especially
since he had begun tearing the house apart just after returning
from the mission. Brad had bodily thrown him into his room and
locked the door after the telepath had taken a bat to his favorite
desk. ::Fuck off.:: He could sense Crawford's near smirk. ::You are free to leave your room then.:: Schuldich sighed heavily before getting back to his feet. The message hadn't really been a request. Crawford had something to discuss and the telepath could sense the urgency in his companion's mind. The German opened the door quickly, realizing that he wasn't about to get any peace. ::What is it with you, Crawford? Your mind is making me itch with curiosity.:: Crawford seemed to nearly...well, fidget was the closest Schuldich could estimate. The American never moved more than was necessary to complete his intended action; anything else was just wasted energy. He actually seemed nervous. ::This remains between us, Schuldich. Not Farfarello, not the witch, not Aste...No one is to know.:: Schuldich moved into the hall, intrigued by Crawford's mysterious request. ::Exactly why are we keeping the bitch around anyways? We should finish the job the Weiß katzen began.:: ::She will be needed. Aste will speak with her...after they speak with us about Nagi.:: The telepath went cold with shock. He hadn't thought of the consequences of letting the young boy go...only knowing that he couldn't possibly kill one of the only humans he had ever come to think of as family. Now it was likely that he and the rest of Schwarz would die in his place. ::I lied to you.:: It was a moment before the impact of Crawford's statement sunk in. ::Lied? How could you lie? Lied how?:: With a cautious glance over his shoulder, the American leaned closer as if their mental conversation could be overheard. ::I told you that you were supposed to keep an eye on Nagi. I...saw his...betrayal...and his death:: He paused for a deep sigh. ::At my hands. I was the one who was to watch...and kill...Nagi that day.:: Schuldich didn't know whether to kiss the American for saving their youngest member or be pissed for Crawford's lack of confidence in his ability. ::You changed your vision. Dammit, Crawford! You changed Nagi's future!:: Happiness won out over anger. The German was certainly elated that Crawford had foreseen his soft spot for the dark haired bishounen or Nagi would be nothing but a memory. He sobered immediately. There were still consequences to be faced. Aste would ask for Nagi's head, as well as that of the one who failed to kill him. ::What of Aste?:: A small smile creased Crawford's lips. ::I will take care of Aste. It appears that my truth bending abilities will be tested yet again.:: Yeah, by psychics of the inhuman kind, Schuldich's mind filled in unkindly, suddenly worried that Crawford would be willing to die for his teammates. All fault lay in the lie he had told Schuldich about the vision. Still, only Crawford could see that future...and he wasn't willing to share. Schuldich turned back to his room, intent on cleaning some of the disaster he had caused. He lowered his head to his arm. A quick sniff revealed that a shower wouldn't be out of order either. Crawford nearly smiled. "We will have to contact Aste soon." ::Remember to bury that knowledge deep, Schuldich. All our lives may depend on it.:: ::Hai, hai. Done and done. Locked and key thrown away. :: The American gave a small glare over the tops of his gold-framed glasses and turned away. He heard Schuldich whisper something, but kept walking. "Thanks, Crawford." §*§*§*§*§ It was a good two hours later before the German telepath sauntered out of his room, his smile fading into an angry frown as he saw the thin witch girl lounging in his favorite recliner. "I'll never use that chair again." Yuki snapped, her dark eyes flashing with anger. "Don't be such a diva, Mastermind. Soon my business with Aste will be concluded and you can continue with your pitiful life." Schuldich couldn't help but snipe back, his patience with the soul stealer stretched beyond gone. "Listen here, you body snatching bitch..." "Children. Sit." The German complied even before he registered he had been given the order. He dropped on the long couch next to Farfarello, tempted to take one of the Irishman's knives and carve the smirk from her face. His green eyes continued to wish death upon the pale witch, and he found his dislike returned. His memory of her control had been restored after the second instance in the nightclub. His pride did not take kindly to his being used merely as a communication device, by either side. Yuki slid down from the recliner, pacing about the wine colored carpet. The movements were jerky and hesitant, as if she had to think about them before the action could be done. Her mind would have to assimilate what remained of Wrash's natural body actions in order to use the body properly. "Why have we not contacted Aste?" Crawford removed his glasses, a sure sign that his patience with the witch was growing thin. "We will wait for them..." Yuki stamped her foot, looking like a teenager told that she was grounded. "No! I will contact Aste on my own terms." She dashed forward, diving bodily into the stunned German telepath, who did nothing as sibilant words hissed from her mouth, and her cool hands held his cheeks. The spell was finished, and for a moment Crawford believed the crisis past. "Christ!" Crawford stopped himself from rushing forward as the telepath seemed to crumple in on himself, pale hands clutched to his head in agony. He fell to the dark carpet, writhing as his muscles fought back against another's attempt to control them. Yuki merely smirked, tapping her foot with impatience. Schuldich's head snapped back up, his mouth open in a terrifying scream. His eyes had gone white blind as another presence invaded his body, pushing the German aside with ease. He rose jerkily, as if a puppet with an unskilled master. He turned towards Brad and the American repressed a shudder at the power emanating from the body of his companion. "Where is the betrayer? Why is he not dead?" The voice was cracked and dry, ripped from vocal chords that had been screaming for the past twenty-four hours. It echoed with a hundred voices, each speaking through the poor telepath in their grasp. Farfarello hissed and dropped to one knee, knife drawn at his side. "Well, Oracle? What have you to say?" Brad swallowed hard. He knew that it would come to this, but he had a wild card he hoped to playand to save both his life and the other's of Schwarz. "I could not foresee what was to occur after we reached the warehouse. Another power moved to interfere with my own." With unusual nervousness, the American prayed that the Elders would believe the lie, to believe that whatever spell Yuki had cast could have done exactly what Brad said. Schuldich nodded, head bobbing loosely on his neck. The Elders turned the German's gaze upon Yuki, the witch in the waifish body staring defiantly into the dead whites of the telepath. A sad cackle escaped the German's lips. "You failed, witch. Weiß has the Key of Night. Their memories will..." Yuki hissed to interrupt, her whip thin form rising to her feet. "Correction, Elders. Weiß does not have the Key." This caught the Elders' attention and Schuldich took a few shuffling steps towards the witch. Yuki did not flinch as cool hands touched her cheeks, seeking deception. "Explain yourself and perhaps we will show mercy." "Weiß is the Key of Night." The telepath fell back in a parody of surprise, eyes wide. Brad wasn't sure exactly what the significance of her admission was, but he intended to find out once the presence of the Elders left Schwarz to themselves. A low sigh of satisfaction hissed from Schuldich's body. "Yes. We see. Very well." He stepped uncomfortably close to Yuki, his mouth nearly on hers. "You will give us the Key and we will not kill you." Brad caught only snatches of words, hardly more than whispers. A deep foreboding grew in his stomach and he didn't need a vision to reveal the future of this unholy alliance between Aste and the disembodied witch. The witch nodded. "I am weakened. I have no choice but to serve you, mighty Elders." She licked her lips and drew closer to Schuldich. "I ask but one thing in return." "You are brave and stupid beyond question, witch. Ask." "Schwarz. Give me Schwarz and the Key is yours." |
