The Black Cross

Yohji was jerked out of visions of a blood drenched Ran by a sharp shriek and the sensation of Schuldig’s weight ricocheting off of him.

He tilted his head up, vaguely wondering if he was in some sort of immediate danger, but barely caring. He was mostly just curious to know what on earth might possibly be capable of so ruffling Schwarz.

No tangible provocation seemed present. The cockiness Schuldig had been exuding up until seconds before had instantly evaporated, replaced by…well, just from observing the body language, Yohji would have been tempted to use the word fear. But he knew better. It was probably pain, although he could find no visible source for it.

Again, yohji was bothered by the detached awareness that in another place and time he might have been provoked to sympathy at the tableau he was observing. But the emotion was dead. He felt only a slight sense of relief that the psychopath was no longer invading his personal space.

…And if Schudig’s cruel taunting of a few minutes before proved true, Yohji would certainly be glad to have witnessed this. He couldn’t let himself think too hard on that topic though.

A cry for painkillers eventually registered. Yohji couldn't stop himself from snorting.

"Would love to help you out there pal," he snarked. "Too bad I'm kinda indisposed."

The sarcasm bled.

Edited Date: 2008-10-20 08:30 pm (UTC)

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"Schu!"
It took Nagi a few seconds to comprehend what was happening, but as soon as he did he let his laptop slide to the ground and was up and by Schuldigs side. "Schuldig!"
He ignored Yohji's sarcasm, though a little voice in de far back of his mind noted that the man had humour. Just what they needed, someone else with humour. He ignored that too, and focussed his full attention on his teammate.

It didn't take long to float over the bottle of painkillers - again, was he becoming the resident nurce or what? - and he gently shook Schuldig by his shoulders. "Schu! Did something happen?"
He knew better than the communicate by thoughts right now. He was pretty sure that whatever had happened had something to do with his teammate's telepathy and he wasn't going to agrivate it. He also didn't give a shit if Yohji heared or not, right than.

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Schuldig groaned, grabbing for the bottle of painkillers as they came near. He fumbled with the bottle for a few moments before managed to get the cap off, swallowing two of them dry before stumbling over to a chair and slumping down, still holding his head.

He felt like he was going to throw up. It was like he was back to his first days at Rosenkreuz. Or if someone had literally driven a train spike into his head. It was pure agony. Slowly though, he started coming back to himself. Time resettled into the present, and the pain dulled to a steady throbbing.

"Crawford." Schuldig growled, still holding his aching head. "... fed me a vision."

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A vision? As far as Nagi knew, that was unusual. While not a telepath, Crawford still had a mental talent and more control of his mind than anyone he'd ever met, including his teachers on Rosenkreuz and Schuldig himself. He'd seen the man have countless visions before and they never made him do more than flinch. Besides, the times he was in contact with Schuldig at those times were almost as countless and he'd never seen the telepath have this reaction either...
He filed the thoughts away as yet another thing to ask Crawford about and focussed on opening the tap, floating a glass under it, closing the tap and floating the glass to them for Schuldig.
"What kind of vision? Did he say anything to indicate what's going on?"

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At catching the word “vision’ Yohji refocused his attention.

For the first time since he’d been forcibly extracted from his teammates, he connected with an emotion other than despair and indifference.

He was interested.

He pulled himself up as best he could to watch, although the bindings gave him little real range of movement. He remained as silent as possible not wanting to draw any attention to his presence or observation.

Schuldig was definitely in pain. Quite a lot of it, it would seem, and it appeared to be stemming from his head. Yohji vaguely wondered if that was how he had looked when Schuldig was fucking with him….

It had never occurred to Yohji before that the pain Schuldig was capable of mentally delivering might go both ways….

If so, why would Crawford do that to his own teammate?

Well, Yohji couldn’t say he was surprised that the man would.

The quiet one, however, had quite thoroughly stopped being quiet and was displaying a noble show of actual genuine concern. This would have surprised Yohji if not for his interaction with the boy a few moments before.

Really, he had no idea what to make of it all. But he rather hoped he’d gleam some sort of useful insight on how Schwarz worked, and actually live to share the discovery with his own team.

Not that he was holding his breath on that.

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Schuldig opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head, curling up into a ball on the chair and resting his forehead on his knees. I didn't want to think about the jumble of... whatever... he'd just seen. Not until it stopped hurting.

He did, however, take the glass of water, lifting his head again to sip at it.

"Turn the lights off..." He mumbled, closing his eyes and burying his face in his knees. As it was, the lights in his room were already fairly dim, due to his proneness to headaches. But right now, he needed the dark. It would help the pain go away.

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Nagi did as asked without further comment. He was sure that Schuldig would tell him what he needed to know when he needed to know it. Probably. Either way, he wouldn't get anything out of the man before Schu felt like it.
Instead, he stood hovering by the bed, looking at Schuldig with concern and mentally willing him to tell him what was going on.

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Schuldig growled softly, lifting his head a bit and glaring at Nagi through the darkness. His head was splitting and Nagi was practically chanting in his brain to let him know what was happening. He loved the boy, but his quiet exterior sometimes made for a very noisy interior.

"Fine, if it will make you quiet." He grunted, reaching through the pain to grip Nagi's mind, showing the boy exactly what he had seen, though there was no pain for him, since it wasn't a raw, live vision. It was more like a movie playing in Nagi's head.

Schuldig lowered his head to his knees again, pressing his hands against his skull and rocking himself slightly in the chair. That had really not helped his headache.

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Nagi stood blinking for a second before he turned very red. He hadn't even realized he'd been broadcasting... Now that was embarassing. He quietly mumbled an appology and slammed his shield back up as strong as he could get them. He wondered what Kudou's mind did to Schuldig when he was in this state.

It was only than that he turned to the vision. Someone had been killed. Well, that wasn't very unusual... It had to be important for their team though. He quickly took inventory of the victem. Middleaged, Jaspanese, looked like a simple salary-man. He was reaching for his suitcase. Supposedly, something important was in there. Confirmed by the foot keeping him from grabbing it. He had to wonder... It did come the moment he sent Crawford Sato's information. Sadly, the file didn't contain a picture so he couldn't confirm anything, but it might just be him. Maybe if he looked around the internet a bit more, he could confirm that...

But something had to be done about Schu first. Only, what?

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Yohji’s survival skills had seemed to fall alarmingly absent as this ordeal with Schwarz progressed. He felt too tired and defeated to see any point in continuing to struggle. And he didn’t actually believe that there was a chance in hell that good behavior would earn him any reprieve so he wasn’t being careful either. He was pretty certain that he was quite thoroughly fucked and nothing he did would make any change greater than multiplying his pain.

Until now.

All of the sudden his training kicked back into gear.

Schwarz was distracted.

Schuldig was surprisingly failing to bounce back from whatever had mentally wrecked havoc on him. He seemed pretty down for the count. It was at least the weakest Yohji had ever seen him, and Yohji had witnessed Mastermind take some impressive damage in battle. Schuldig had done so in the past with such impassiveness that Yohji had actually harbored a suspicion that all of Schwarz shared in Farfarello’s apparent lack of pain receptors.

Apparently not so.

Nagi’s flat stoicism was unraveling as he worried and fussed about his teammate. They were both as distracted as Yohji could hope for them to get. If he was going to try something right now was when he’d have to do it.

If only he weren’t tied up.

Yohji finally let his thoughts settle deliberately and solidly on Ran. They were panicky and predictable, and seemed the best bet for masking his other thoughts.

…Which consisted of scanning the room for some miraculous item that might hold the potential for severing rope.

He subtly inched a fraction closer to the edge of the bed.

Edited Date: 2008-10-24 02:59 pm (UTC)

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All Schuldig needed was peace, quiet, and time for this headache to go away. He ignored the other two in the room. Instead he focused on his breathing, and the silence in the room. However, he found that when he tried to focus on the quiet, he instead heard the shuffling of fabric on the bed. He slowly raised his head again, glaring through the dark at the bed.

Rather than doing anything about it, though, he just laid his head back down. He wasn't worried about Yohji. Even if the man managed to get away, Nagi would grab him before he could do any damage.

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Yohji froze as he caught Schuldig's movement. He had seemed aware of his intentions but had made no move to stop him. Either he was really sick, or just found Yohji that insignificant of a threat.

...Or both.

He hesitated. He'd failed to spot anything with even the remotest possibility of usefulness for escape. Schuldig's room had a surprising lack of sharp pointy objects.

If only he hadn't taken his watch off. If only he....

Well, damn.

If Yohji hadn't been tied up he would have smacked himself.

In his invalid state he'd abandoned his watch, not bothered with his cell phone.... But his nicotine addiction had prevailed. He hadn't wasted any time in attempting to smoke behind the other's backs.... And his lighter was still in his back pocket, completely forgotten in his state of panic.

It was difficult to reach it with his hands bound, but luckily Schuldig had tied them behind his back instead of in front. He managed to maneuver the fortunate object out and after a few clumsy attempts got the flame going.

He cringed as the flame hit his wrist. He was having more success in burning himself than the rope. But not having his hands tied would make all the difference....

Please stay distracted....

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(OOC: *Raises eyebrow* He's in a darkened room. Lighting a flame. And hoping noone will notice. Uhuh...)

Nagi was still hovering, attention focused on Schu, when suddenly to his left, something lid up. At first he thought it might be coming of some machine or something, possibly Schuldig's phone, but when he looked towards it, he decided it flickered too much.
When leaned over Kudou - whatever it was, was right behind the man - it didn't take him more than a moment to figure it out.
He glared at the man and yanked the lighter away from him within seconds.
He caught it and slid the thing in his pocket. "Nice try," he said simply.
The incident had, however, brought him out of his funk and he returned to his chair and laptop. He didn't really know what to do with Kudou. He knew the others would punish him or laugh at him, but Nagi was simply amused at the mans inventiveness and will to live. Honestly, with Schuldig messing with his mind the way he'd spend the last hour or so doing with Kudou's, he probably wouldn't have been that adventurous.

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((Yes, I must also lol at Yohji's attempted escape. hehe))

Schuldig blinked at the sound of the lighter. He didn't even have to look up to know what it was, or to know that Nagi would take it away as quick as possible. He would have personally set Yohji on fire for trying such a stupid trick... Yohji should count himself lucky that Nagi wasn't as sadistic as he was.

It did give him an idea, though. And he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. Probably because Brad frowned on his use of "recreational narcotics," but with this headache... no. He would still bitch if he knew. But that would be all he would do. No raiding the German's room to find his stash of drugs, no threats of rehab, and thankfully he couldn't use the threat of sending the redhead back to Rosenkreuz anymore.

Schuldig got up, and after digging around in his underwear drawer for a moment, came up with a small, hand rolled cigarette that, to the knowing nose, did not smell like tobacco.

He sat down beside his window, turning his head as he reached through the curtains and opened the window enough that the smell wouldn't linger, then pulled his lighter from his pocket and lit up, inhaling the thick, musky smoke deep into his lungs, holding it for several second before exhaling with a contented sigh.

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Yohji glared at Nagi but remained silent.

He hadn't really expected his attempt to work, but it had seemed like the closest thing to an actual chance he had. He'd grasped at the hope that his back would have been enough of a shield for such a tiny flame.... But apparently not. He felt better for having attempted though, in spite of the fact that he was pretty certain he'd be punished for it later. He didn't want to die without feeling like he'd actually tried not to.

He stared morosely into the dark for a few moments until Schuldig's movements distracted him again. He watched enviously as the other man lit up. God he would kill for a cigarette right now....

...except as the smell hit him he realized that Schuldig was not smoking a normal cigarette.

"Oh Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath.

If Schuldig freaked him out in normal circumstances, he shuddered at the thought of how the man would be while high.

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Schuldig leaned back against the wall, ignoring Yohji's comments as he continued smoking. About half way through, a soft smile was curling his lips. Once he was done, he was full out grinning. He flicked the tiny last bit out the window before getting up, stretching and walking over to the bed. He settled down on the mattress beside Yohji and sighed happily, blinking up at the ceiling.

His head ache was gone, and he wasn't even angry at Brad anymore.

Why did Brad complain about his use of marijuana? All it did was mellow him out.

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Yohji’s scowl deepened as the room filled with cloying smoke. It was obnoxiously familiar, and reminded him of another life, of experimental habits he’d long ago abandoned in favor of hardcore drinking. Drinking was easier to keep under the other’s radar, anyway.

It irritated him that in spite of the direness of his situation, he found himself remembering people he didn’t want to remember, things he wished he hadn’t done…damn sensory triggers. He hated the fact that as irritating he was finding all this, he actually wished Schuldig was in a sharing mood, because his continuously whining pain receptors could sure use a reprieve.

He was trying very hard to hang on to his indignant anger, but the second hand smoke was starting to get to him. It wasn’t enough to actually help of course. But it was making him feel…mildly weird.

Not weird enough to kill his appall at the telepath rejoining him on the bed though.

He watched him apprehensively.

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(OOC: I said to you I'd post today right? Yesterday by the time we talked I was just far too tired... :S)

It took a moment for the smell to get through to Nagi, who'd gone back to his laptop and research. When it did, he was already too late; Schuldig's joint was finished and the guy seemed high as a freaking kite. God. How much stupid could you spend in one day? Schuldig must've about ran out of supplies by now, right?
Worst thing; it was his fault, he should've noticed. Should've kept a better eye on his teammate. Especially because his teammate was far less than well and said teammate was Schuldig. Apparently they both weren't out of stupid just yet.
He sighed and wondered what he could do now. The evil had been done, Schuldig was high and in this state, he simply wouldn't care. About anything. Damn it.
And what the hell would Brat say when he came back?

Nagi wanted to leave, seek the solitude of his own room, but he didn't quite dare to leave Kudou alone with Schuldig. Especially not when Schuldig was stoned. Damn it, so stupid!
In the end he turned to Schuldig.
"I'm taking Kudou," he stated, hoping it would at the very least shock the man enough to wake him up a little.

From:

bloodyfarfie.livejournal.com

((Yes, what would Brat say? XD sorry, shot at Brad, had to take it. It amused me so~!))

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Schuldig rolled, wrapping his arms around Yohji. "No. He tastes like honey." He purred, now using Yohji as a body pillow. "I'm stoned, not completely retarded, Nagi." He chuckled.

Sure, it wouldn't keep Nagi from taking Yohji away, but he wanted the blond to stay. He tormented himself with no help from the telepath. His thoughts were delicious, and Schuldig wanted to keep them near by.

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"That happened to be the problem Schuldig, you are stoned. There is no saying what you'll come up with when you're stoned." Nagi fought to keep his voice completely level. He succeeded mostly, at least and he hoped very much that what did show up sounded like irritation and not... Whatever.
"Sometimes I wonder about you being retarded though," he added, almost like an afterthought.

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Yohji’s body went completely rigid.

For a second, his scattered mind pitched the errant thought that perhaps he’d actually died on the mission. He was in Hell. Hell was far more fucked up than he’d bothered to imagine.

He had to fight back the urge to struggle; he hadn’t even been able to unbalance the man when he’d simply been leaning on him. Yohji knew that he didn’t have half the strength needed to even have a hope of throwing Schuldig off. The attempt would only aggravate his injuries and leave him even more vulnerable.

He scrunched his eyes shut and tried to remove his consciousness from the present. Denial could be useful. He conjured the image of one of the random girls he’d picked up last week. Her name, absent from his memory already, not that that mattered…. Tried to imagine that the stifling weight against him was her and not…ugh.

Tried to blank out the thought of…someone else, he’d rather imagine in that place.

Fuck, man, -don’t- provoke him.

The spoken conversation was all but lost on him.

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Schuldig chuckled at the visions in Yohji's head. The girl tried to form, but kept returning to a distinctly male form. A shapely male, yes, but definitely male.

"Why do you even bother?" Schuldig asked, tilting his head. "You can try to deny, but I'll know. Just be honest. Or maybe you don't want to be honest with yourself?"

Schuldig snorted at his own worded, grinning as he looked over at Nagi. "It's too bad you're not a telepath. This guy is hilarious."

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“Or maybe you don't want to be honest with yourself?"

Honest? Yohji was honest with himself, wasn’t he? He knew exactly how things stood. He knew exactly how he felt. He knew that he held a slim chance in Hell of those things ever reconciling with each other.

And he knew his coping skills left a lot of room to be desired.

…Not that any of those things were terribly relevant to his current predicament. Nothing really mattered at all right now except staying alive….

…Hopefully without further molestation from the German asshole.

Against his better judgment, Yohji warily opened his eyes and glared at Schuldig.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he rasped.

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"Of course you don't." Schuldig chuckled, reaching up to ruffle Yohji's hair. There was no talking to the blond. Let him live in his self-denial. It tasted good, anyway.

With a yawn, Schuldig rolled back onto his back and stretched out, closing his eyes. A nap sounded like a good idea for now. Schuldig purred, drifting on Yohji's thoughts as he drifted in and out of sleep.

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Schuldig’s vague allusions to his insight of Yohji’s subconscious were obviously calculated to rile him. Yohji could see that. It was perfectly clear.

…It worked anyway.

He caught himself just as his mouth was opening to demand an explanation.

What the hell was he doing?

Schuldig was miraculously leaving him alone. Of all the horrible ways he could visualize things panning out, he’d somehow had the luck to score this…almost benign outcome. He was being given an unexpected reprieve. And he was about to encourage his tormentor.

He really was a fucking masochist.

He went back to trying to think about what’s-her-name. He refused to give in to Schuldig’s encouragement to dwell on the personal. He didn’t want to think about Weiss OR Schwarz. He didn’t want thoughts of his teammates tangled up in his memories of this bad experience…. He hoped he would be allowed the chance for this to become a memory. He just wanted an escape.

…He could picture her perfectly. Her black hair, lightened to an ambiguous pale brown, burdened by loose artificial curls. There were too many ruffles on her blouse. The effect was cute, but not quite to Yohji’s taste. Yohji belonged to the fashion camp that less fabric was always more. She might have chosen a more flattering shade of lipstick.

He’d been tempted to take her shopping. Fix her. No, not fix, HELP. He wanted to help her.

There was no point; he didn’t want to see her again.

Instead she’d helped him. He’d felt better for a few hours. She was more mature than the average girl that went for him. She was a good one.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t bothered to write down her phone number. He knew instinctually that he wouldn’t call it.

How was it that he could remember the color of her shoes, but not her –name-?

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Nagi stared at his laptop, having trouble deciding what to do now. Schuldig wasn't causing any ruckus and experience learned that the best way to keep him that way was to let him be. Kudou was... He actually had no idea what Kudou was doing, but he was quiet and for a change he didn't seem to be provoking Schuldig, so he was good. (Not that you had to do anything to provoke Schuldig, but still, Kudou had been provoking the man to an extend that it was almost funny. Almost.)

In the end, Nagi decided to let them be. Schuldig would be well and pissed if he moved Kudou, and he had no idea what Crawford would think of it. Little good, if you asked him.

In the end, he decided that the best thing to do right now was to finally return to searching for the information Crawford had ordered him to find and more about this Sato-person.

The room grew silent but for their breathing and the sound of Nagi's fingers rapidly hitting the keys.

After a while, a strange sound disturbed the almost-silence and it took Nagi a moment to realize that it was actually his belly. Right. Food. The body needed sustenance.

"Schuldig, do you want food?"

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((OOC: New comment to unsquish the replies))

Schuldig stirred when his name was called, cracking his eyes and yawning. At the mention of food, he realized that he was rather hungry. Slowly, he rubbed his eyes and sat up, a small grin still playing on his lips.

"Only if I don't have to get up." He said, then turned his head to Yohji. "We should probably feed you, too. It's looking like you might be here for a while. No red headed swordsmen swooping in on their white horses to save you." He chuckled and stretched. "Maybe we can get some use out of you."

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Yohji tried to lean away as Schuldig turned towards him. His words stirred the emotional conflict that Yohji was sure they were intended to. He tried to block them out.

Not true. If there is any possibility for Ran to get him out of here, he’ll come. He might not care about Yohji’s personal feelings but there was no question that Ran cared about the team. Ran would come.

If he could.

It might not be a possibility.

He might be dead.

He might….

“Fuck you.” Yohji snarled, desperately trying to break the downward spiral of his thoughts.

Even the offer of food perpetuated his inner conflict. He was hungry. And fucking weak, food was more important now than under normal circumstances. He needed it.

There was no way in hell he wanted to eat anything given to him by Schwarz.

Oh, fuck no.

And he couldn’t even let himself think about Schuldig’s closing statement.

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"I'll make something. And yes, he does need to eat. It looks like he lost quite a bit of blood. His body needs energy."

Why didn't he think of that before?

Sighing, Nagi slid the laptop of his lap and walked out to the kitchen. While he was sure he could do it from the room, he wasn't going to risk it.

[Nagi out for just a small while, not starting a new post for that]

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"It better be more than just rice." Schuldig yelled from the bed as Nagi walked out the door. He knew the kid didn't eat much more than rice when left to his own devices. It was actually kind of amazing that he had thought to eat at all while he was so busy with his computer.

He sighed and turned his attention back to Yohji.

"So... why did you get into this?" He tilted his head. Sure, he could pluck the answer from the man's head, but he was lazy and bored and actually wanted to talk. "Why an assassin and not... I don't know... a pet store owner?"

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...No fucking way.

It was surreal enough to have the kid talking to him, acting like...well like some sort of actual person.... but the telepath too? After going to such lengths to emotionally fuck him up like this? After poking, prodding, offering him the one thing that practically ripped his fucking soul in half? For kicks? And now he was asking him casual questions, like someone who actually gave a damn? ...The fuck?

He seriously couldn't believe these people.

"I'm allegeric to dogs," he answered flatly.

"I suppose you're in it for the stock options, huh? Or is it the 401K? Oh wait, we don't get those."

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Schuldig chuckled softly. "Well with a precog, we all have pretty nice portfolios..." He grinned a bit, though his grin faded a bit when his answer turned more serious.

"Not everyone gets a choice, Kudou. Did you really think a team of Gifted folks coming together is just a coincidence?" He asked, eyeing the blond for a long moment before returning his gaze to the ceiling, his grin returning. "You chose this life. I was forced into it. Who's the good guy now?"

Edited Date: 2008-11-06 03:56 am (UTC)

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Yohji listened to Schuldig's reply without much reaction.

...Well, until he cracked up.

"Chose it?"

He shut his eyes and felt a pained smile ironically crawl across his face.

"I got fucking shot, asshole. I watched..." he cut himself off, horrified that he almost actually let his answer slip into the personal there. There was simply no way he was going to discuss her with him. Fuck.

The twisted humor was gone when he resumed his answer.

"I got shot and I woke up a dead man. Not a whole lot of choice involved."

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Schuldig's fist suddenly shot out, landing nicely into Yohji's nose with a crack.

"That is bullshit, and you know it. 'Oh, boo hoo! I woke up and found out I had been declared dead! I guess I'll just go sign up for the first job that comes along! Assassin sounds good. I'll just start killing people for a big shadowy overlord because it's so much easier than the paperwork involved for the government to realize I'm still alive!' Fuck you, no choice."

The fist shot out again, this time only hitting him in the shoulder.

"I should end you for your stupidity."

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The pain almost, not quite fully registered. He barely had the energy to flinch. He stared at Schuldig blankly, saw him pull back, followed as the fist came at him a second time. Watched with detached disinterest.

He was supposed to be pissed off right now. That's what Mastermind was going for, right?

If he felt anything, it was relieved. Schuldig was back to being the predictably violent creep he anticipated. The world was comfortably black and white again.

"I didn't think you needed that good of a reason."

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Schuldig just snorted and rolled onto his side.

"If it weren't for the fact that I don't want to get shot for killing you, you would be a dead man right now." He growled. "Oh, wait. You already are. You'd be a literal dead man. Not just a figurative one."

He sighed and closed his eyes. He wasn't about to get up from his own bed just because of one bone headed retard. "And stop bleeding on my bed."

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Well...at least there was some insight. Schuldig wasn't allowed to kill him. At least for the time being. Good to know. Not that he thought that it would be a good idea to test that conviction.

...Not that he was very good at rationally stopping himself.

"There are worse experiences than getting shot," he snorted. "Meeting you has made that painfully obvious."

It was interesting that Schuldig apparently had put some previous thought into the moral discrepancies between their parallel lives as assassins. Any vague internal ethical debate that Yohji might have been inclined to wage had been effectively silenced by watching Ouka's death months before. The conclusion that Schwarz were starkly heartless bastards had seemed pretty finite.

He didn't need starkly heartless bastards telling him his own life was fucked up. No fucking kidding.

"I hope it stains." He found the spite a nice reprieve from his apparently chronic apathy.

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"I hope you bleed out." Schuldig growled. Then the blond would be dead and it wouldn't technically be his fault. He didn't need the punch, having to deal with Kudou was punishment enough. He stopped being entertaining, and now he was just irritating.

He was ready for the blond to go home. He had his fun.

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“I’ll see what I can do for you,” Yohji muttered, “I already had a head start on that.”

He stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at Schuldig, and trying to ignore the new dimension of pain that was settling in his face.

Asshole.

For…well, Yohji had lost count of what time it was for…(a fucking lot,) he also tried to ignore what Schuldig had said. And for whatever time it was he failed. Schuldig, apparently, really had that whole ‘getting to people’ thing down. Really. Well.

“I can’t believe you of all people want to play the ethical philosopher with me.” He spoke addressing the ceiling more than his bed companion, against his better judgment.

“I’d make the same choices all over again.”

Not the ones leading up to the…incident, of course. He’d give his life to change some of those choices. But with Kritiker’s proposition for the starting point…. Yeah, he’d do it again. Asuka’s revenge had been too essential; it’s not something he could have turned his back on even with an alternative life spread out before him. It didn’t matter that revenge had proved a lot emptier than he’d anticipated. He had to learn it the hard way. He wasn’t all that great at learning things.

And unhappy as he might be now, he knew that the other path would have been worse. Lonelier.

He didn’t care if all of that just proved Schuldig right.

Well, he tried to convince himself he didn’t care.

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"You like the kill."

Schuldig didn't need to ask. He knew it was true, because he enjoyed it too. But... if things hadn't turned out the way they had, he knew for a fact that he would not be in this position. He wouldn't be in Japan with a hostage, he wouldn't have blood on his hands, and he wouldn't have the scars that marked his body.

Maybe he would be a student. Or working somewhere, in a legit position. He would have a real name, and real friends, and a real life. He would be boring, and probably be quite happy to be so.

Either that or he would be stark raving mad.

He wasn't sure, but he would bet the latter.

"I'm probably the best person to philosophize with. I understand you. But that's probably why you don't like it." He sighed, a slight grin twisting his lips again.

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"If you're such a great mindreader you'd know I fucking hate it."

If he liked it he wouldn't have hesitated on their last mission. He wouldn't have fucked up. Wouldn't still be haunted by that goddamned fucking cheerful ring tone.

Even when he'd pulled the last breath out of the CEO that Asuka had died investigating.... There'd been no satisfaction. Just disgust.

He felt that a lot.

"I like closure." He mumbled, "That's it."

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Schuldig snorted and smirked. "You're a fucking liar, Kudou. I know you like it. You get hard after a kill, don't you? If you fucking hated it, you could stop. You enjoy the thrill, just like I do. And you hate that you enjoy it."

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"No." Yohji wished he had some way of physically expressing the vehement hatred that was roiling inside him at Schuldig's words. "Fuck, no."

"I can't stop...."

...Because to stop would be to quit.

Termination.

He told himself that he was just too far gone to salvage himself. He was too messed up to try and be normal. Kritiker wouldn't let him get away with it, anyway. He was in too deep. You don't get to just walk away from shit like that.

Excuses.

No. His priorities were the real thing fucked up. Goddamn priorities.

There were things he wasn't willing to give up in exchange.

The killing was just a price he learned he could live with.

He tried not to think about that.

"Think whatever the fuck you like." He couldn't bring himself to try explaining his conscience to Schuldig. It was a doomed battle.

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"I will. Thank you." Schuldig purred, then promptly began projecting his thoughts at Yohji.

The night is dark - no street lamps, or passing cars. Not even a moon in the sky to shed a bit of light into the shadows. It's raining, and Balinese is crouched behind a stack of crates, waiting and watching, anticipation crackling through his nerves, his muscles tight, like a predator waiting to strike.

The target arrives and the blond moves in, silver wire managing to reflect the light of the stars as it finds it's mark, and a quick flick of the wrist crushes the man's wind pipe, leaving him gurgling and gasping on the ground, his eyes wide with terror as he faces his own mortality.

Balinese watches him, waiting until the man becomes a corpse, adrenaline still pumping through his blood. Excitement trembling in his limbs. Abyssinian appears from behind him, looking over the blond's work and nodding slightly. Balinese turns, his eyes trailing over the swordsman's tight body...

Schuldig grinned, watching Kudou, waiting to see how the blond's mind would play with the bait he'd just left out.

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