Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Incubi, Succubi ❯ 01 Coup ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Bombay 
The war between good and evil takes Omi as a casualty, but he's the only one who knows it!
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Psychological / Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.20.2002 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 468 | Status: Work In Progress
The war between good and evil takes Omi as a casualty, but he's the only one who knows it!
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Psychological / Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.20.2002 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 468 | Status: Work In Progress
--
~ 1 ~ Coup
"What are we waiting for? Won't anybody help us?
What are we waiting for?..."
- Pat Benatar, Invincible
--
Ken Hidaka was tired. In the fog of post-mission exhaustion, he knew only that much. Wrapped in flimsy cotton pajamas, chiseled portions of the boy's tan limbs were strewn about the couch in ways he never imagined possible. His head lolled (almost impossibly) off of a cushion, an inch between his drooping chocolate locks and the floor. Through half-lidded eyes, he nodded to himself, mumbling through the drone of the Home Shopping Network. "... Tired. Sleep. Need..."
"Good Morning!" A sugar-coated voice interjected into his self-musings.
"What the-" he jerked in surprise, promptly tumbling off of the structure as bouncing music began to pound into his head. He landed in a heap on the floor, and cringed as the remote control followed his lead, landing deftly on his forehead. "Ow!"
A striking chord played twice, then sizzled into said sugar-coated voice spouting a "Ba-dah ba-dah hehe!" and repeated once more before stopping.
"Huh?!" Regarding the entirety of the living room with a scrutinizing eye, the brunette pushed himself onto his elbows.
"Good morning!" The music started up again.
In sudden realization, Ken rolled his eyes. "Oh THAT!" As the music jarred his sense of hearing, he reached around the couch and grabbed a Hello Kitty alarm clock. The alarm's loud volume caused it the small cat body to vibrate, as he stared at the 11 o'clock position of its hands.
Empty black ovals stared up at him, and the etched smile teased him as the chords bounced. "Ba-dah ba-dah hehe! Go-" His hand clamped onto the small device's speaker, the back of the mysterious white animal's red-eared cowl.
/Button. Orange button. Push orange button./
"Morning. Yes, I know - you tell me every time," he grimaced as he set the clock back down. Suddenly, the fruitless tick-tocking of the clock became painfully audible. A frown crept onto his face as he noted the darkness seeping through the windows. "But, it isn't quite that early, now is it, you little plastic demon?"
The clock smiled blankly in reply, hands moving methodically at its belly. Soon a large fluff of calico pounced in the way of Ken's view, and stared into the challenging pair of chestnut brown eyes with its own lime green orbs.
"Kiki, how're you doing?" Ken immediately softened his gaze, and moved a hand along the animal's thin, confident back. The kitten was actually Omi's, left to the boy after Momoe's death. But Omi was caught with the flu virus, not two weeks after the tragedy. Since animals get sick easily and she'd been guarded from his room, Kiki had taken to spending her hours with Ken, the next best thing.
Aya had accidentally kicked the animal when she surreptitiously tried to nuzzle his legs, and scarred her for life. Youji just was not attractive to her, neither was she to him. Being known as "the Beast" by half of the Weiß team, Kiki hardly had a heart to call her own. Even if Ken had been slightly allergic to her at first, he'd taken to finding comfort in her confident affection, and she complied willingly.
"You must be lonely without Omi, huh?" He gently picked her up, and she mewled without resistence as he placed her into his lap. His fingertips ran along her neck a few times, then he rubbed between her ears with his knuckles.
A muffled cry sounded from one of the rooms, and Kiki tensed suddenly, emitting a small growl. Ken's head snapped up. "Oh crap! OMI!" Pushing the cat back out of his lap, he remembered *why* he'd gotten up at 11 o'clock PM. With a curse, he grabbed the waiting medicine bottle and rushed to the kitchen for a thermometer.
*
"Ken-kun..." Omi whimpered softly, doubled over from the icy grip in his chest. Barely supporting himself with one palm on the floor, his teeth chattered roughly. Invisible hands were creeping beneath his shirt, lifting his only barrier to the cold. His exposed skin seared at the cold of the room. Beneath his body, his legs were numb, and he clenched and unclenched his fist against the strange prickling in his muscles - his circulation was being cut off.
/SILENCE!/
A stab of pain interrupted the blonde's crumbling thoughts, and he cried out again.
Someone tried to open the door, hindered by the lock. "Omi?"
Frigid hands locked onto his vocal chords, and held his jaw shut. The floorboards were shuddering with him, and he heard the wind through the clattering blinds. It was howling at him - no - to him. His eyes squeezed shut against the invading cold, and he shook violently, feverish body beheld with attack and rejection.
/Ken-kun./
"Omi! Open the door!" The door jarred within the hold of its bolts.
Suddenly, he found that his face was on the floor, cheek pressed against the silenced wood. He lay completely collapsed, his mind unable to handle the panic rising within him.
Omi had stopped breathing.
/What are you doing to me?/
/Isn't it obvious? I'm taking your body./
*
The creatures fluttered about the small, pale hand, oblivious to the aura surrounding them. One rested patiently at a skinfold, the other tapped lightly at a smooth knuckle, and the third wobbled drunkenly through the air, on silken appendages. The three butterflies, wings flickering between pale lemon yellow and deeper lime-tinted hues in the scattered rays of window blinds, seemed to have no other objective than to tease the boy's fingers.
Nagi Naoe smiled at the life flitting about his palm.
/Like moths to a flame./
"Do we have a small glass case of any kind?" The boy turned his midnight blue eyes toward the standing wall of English-printed newspaper at his left, tugging slightly at the top edge. "Can I keep them, Crawford?"
"Use a jar. Poke holes in the lid." Crawford's bored voice boomed over the rustling of turning pages, and a slight glint of lenses was seen over the gray barrier. "Where did you get them?"
Nagi shrugged, rosy lips tugged into a rueful smile. "They followed me home?"
"Funny things to keep as pets-- Ah... Never mind." Crawford pulled the newspaper down to reveal an expectant frown.
"Huh?-HEY!" An ashen arm reached from the unlit portion of the room and snatched the two butterflies perched atop Nagi's hand. "Farfie!"
Farfello opened his palm to reveal one smushed insect, and another with its wings caught between his middle and index finger. A half-smile broadcasted his discontent with the animals. "I don't like these two."
"Farfello, those are mine!... Were mine. Here, give me that one." The brunette made an effort to pry his teammate's fingers apart for his butterfly's freedom. Keeping the convulsing animal within a bubble of protection, Nagi watched as the third drunken butterfly floated to the Irishman's nose.
Nagi kept his mouth open, ready to utter warning as Farfarello raised his already murderous palm. Calloused fingers moved slowly to their target. "Mm." He made eye contact with Nagi and smirked. "I like this one." He scrunched his nose, and the insect fluttered to his waiting hand.
*
"KEN!" Youji's door flew open, and a head of mussed blonde hair poked out of the jarred doorway. "We finished tonight's mission in about ten seconds. Why am I still awake?!" Not only awake, Youji thought as he fished in his robe pocket, smokeless. He glared through the dim hallway at the ruckus.
"Just a - UNGH! - SECOND!" Ken stumbled backwards after finally kicking the door open, and evening air invaded the rest of the building as it ricocheted on its hinges. When he regained his balance, he peered into the dark room, and cursed. "Youji, come on!" Ken tossed the slim thermometer case to the blonde as he rushed in.
"What the-SHIT! It's cold in here!" Youji gasped through a breath of fog as he walked into the brisk room. He flicked the small bedside lamp on. "What happened?" he asked as he knelt beside Ken. Omi lay unconscious in his arms, breathing lightly through his mouth. The little color in his skin made him look almost like a fresh corpse. Youji shook the image from his head, then focused again on the feverish tinge in the boy's face.
Ken shook his head, hands on the boy's forehead and arm to gauge a temperature. "I don't know, but his fever has gotten worse. Let's get him back to the bed." Youji nodded, and wordlessly helped carry the warm body. After reaching the warmth of his sheets, Omi began to shiver.
"S-samui..." The boy clutched Youji's arm as Ken plucked the thermometer from his grasp and inserted it into Omi's mouth.
"He wasn't this sick before, was he?" Youji frowned, pulling the blankets up as high as he could.
Ken spied the open window and closed it, pointing to the blonde's watch. "The last time I checked, he wasn't. Take it out in two minutes, then give him the medicine." He gestured to the water glass and pill bottle in the hallway as he rubbed sleep away from his eyes. "I'll go look for more blankets."
"You can steal Aya's, he'll be staying at his sister's place all night."
*
/You can continue fighting for your body, and kill your friend, or you can give yourself up./
/NO! No... Don't hurt them. Promise me you won't hurt them./
/The dart in your hand will do well in his chest - like the arrow you put in mine./
/Please./
/No trying to kill yourself, now. Control. Complete control./
*
Something fell to the floor, and Omi shifted towards Youji's warmth. The man craned his neck to see the object, but looked up as a shadow approached the room. His face soured as he raised his gaze to the visitor. "Kiki!" He hissed, the animosity of his voice matching that of the kitten's. "You, get out! Now!"
The glow of her lime green eyes had become an eerie chartreuse - her pupiles minimized to black slits as she emitted the low angry noise from her throat. Her tail stood straight up, and the fur of her back followed suit.
Youji stood and raised a fist, in threat. "Go!" Backing away slowly, Kiki muttered a few course mewls and skittered away. He settled again and glanced at his watchface, noting the end of the two minute wait.
*
/Who are you?/
/Aria Mikata./
/I've never heard of you. I've never seen your name on a target list./
/Of course not. You had no idea who I was when you murdered me. But you're a smart boy. Here's a hint: you have three guesses./
/I don't...understand./
/It hurt like this./
*
"102.5," Youji peered at the small line of mercury. "That's pretty bad, kid." He looked back down at Omi, who had stopped shivering. In fact, the boy had stilled rather abruptly, still attached to his arm.
For his own peace-of-mind, Youji put his hand against Omi's cheek and felt his light breathing. "You're so warm. Get better, ok? You're scaring the hell out of Ken ... and me too."
"Youji-kun..." He croaked out, after exploding with a sudden cough.
Omi grunted as pain ripped through his back and stabbed his chest, and he saw someone - a blur a gray in his mind - fall to the floor. He saw the Ani Museum, and a great body of water. He also saw the table of a ritual - where an unconscious Sakura was layed out.
/Oh God.../
/It's a little late for that./
"Omi, daijoubu?"
/Estet, Youji. It's Estet./
Omi wanted to tell the man everything, to warn him, to tell him his fear, and to thank him for caring. But he soon realized that he was no longer seeing the world through his eyes, he was feeling the presence of everything in this room, and feeling the warm aura that was next to him - as well as the torrent of frigidity that had taken his place. He no longer had a voice to speak with, nor limbs to move. As he felt the command of his body being ripped away from his soul, his lips quirked up, involuntarily.
/So that's his name./
"Youji." He nuzzled the man's colder hand with his cheek and clutched his arm tightly. "Stay with me. It's just.. cold." With those last words, darkness creeped around him, until all was silent.
~ 1 ~ Coup
"What are we waiting for? Won't anybody help us?
What are we waiting for?..."
- Pat Benatar, Invincible
--
Ken Hidaka was tired. In the fog of post-mission exhaustion, he knew only that much. Wrapped in flimsy cotton pajamas, chiseled portions of the boy's tan limbs were strewn about the couch in ways he never imagined possible. His head lolled (almost impossibly) off of a cushion, an inch between his drooping chocolate locks and the floor. Through half-lidded eyes, he nodded to himself, mumbling through the drone of the Home Shopping Network. "... Tired. Sleep. Need..."
"Good Morning!" A sugar-coated voice interjected into his self-musings.
"What the-" he jerked in surprise, promptly tumbling off of the structure as bouncing music began to pound into his head. He landed in a heap on the floor, and cringed as the remote control followed his lead, landing deftly on his forehead. "Ow!"
A striking chord played twice, then sizzled into said sugar-coated voice spouting a "Ba-dah ba-dah hehe!" and repeated once more before stopping.
"Huh?!" Regarding the entirety of the living room with a scrutinizing eye, the brunette pushed himself onto his elbows.
"Good morning!" The music started up again.
In sudden realization, Ken rolled his eyes. "Oh THAT!" As the music jarred his sense of hearing, he reached around the couch and grabbed a Hello Kitty alarm clock. The alarm's loud volume caused it the small cat body to vibrate, as he stared at the 11 o'clock position of its hands.
Empty black ovals stared up at him, and the etched smile teased him as the chords bounced. "Ba-dah ba-dah hehe! Go-" His hand clamped onto the small device's speaker, the back of the mysterious white animal's red-eared cowl.
/Button. Orange button. Push orange button./
"Morning. Yes, I know - you tell me every time," he grimaced as he set the clock back down. Suddenly, the fruitless tick-tocking of the clock became painfully audible. A frown crept onto his face as he noted the darkness seeping through the windows. "But, it isn't quite that early, now is it, you little plastic demon?"
The clock smiled blankly in reply, hands moving methodically at its belly. Soon a large fluff of calico pounced in the way of Ken's view, and stared into the challenging pair of chestnut brown eyes with its own lime green orbs.
"Kiki, how're you doing?" Ken immediately softened his gaze, and moved a hand along the animal's thin, confident back. The kitten was actually Omi's, left to the boy after Momoe's death. But Omi was caught with the flu virus, not two weeks after the tragedy. Since animals get sick easily and she'd been guarded from his room, Kiki had taken to spending her hours with Ken, the next best thing.
Aya had accidentally kicked the animal when she surreptitiously tried to nuzzle his legs, and scarred her for life. Youji just was not attractive to her, neither was she to him. Being known as "the Beast" by half of the Weiß team, Kiki hardly had a heart to call her own. Even if Ken had been slightly allergic to her at first, he'd taken to finding comfort in her confident affection, and she complied willingly.
"You must be lonely without Omi, huh?" He gently picked her up, and she mewled without resistence as he placed her into his lap. His fingertips ran along her neck a few times, then he rubbed between her ears with his knuckles.
A muffled cry sounded from one of the rooms, and Kiki tensed suddenly, emitting a small growl. Ken's head snapped up. "Oh crap! OMI!" Pushing the cat back out of his lap, he remembered *why* he'd gotten up at 11 o'clock PM. With a curse, he grabbed the waiting medicine bottle and rushed to the kitchen for a thermometer.
*
"Ken-kun..." Omi whimpered softly, doubled over from the icy grip in his chest. Barely supporting himself with one palm on the floor, his teeth chattered roughly. Invisible hands were creeping beneath his shirt, lifting his only barrier to the cold. His exposed skin seared at the cold of the room. Beneath his body, his legs were numb, and he clenched and unclenched his fist against the strange prickling in his muscles - his circulation was being cut off.
/SILENCE!/
A stab of pain interrupted the blonde's crumbling thoughts, and he cried out again.
Someone tried to open the door, hindered by the lock. "Omi?"
Frigid hands locked onto his vocal chords, and held his jaw shut. The floorboards were shuddering with him, and he heard the wind through the clattering blinds. It was howling at him - no - to him. His eyes squeezed shut against the invading cold, and he shook violently, feverish body beheld with attack and rejection.
/Ken-kun./
"Omi! Open the door!" The door jarred within the hold of its bolts.
Suddenly, he found that his face was on the floor, cheek pressed against the silenced wood. He lay completely collapsed, his mind unable to handle the panic rising within him.
Omi had stopped breathing.
/What are you doing to me?/
/Isn't it obvious? I'm taking your body./
*
The creatures fluttered about the small, pale hand, oblivious to the aura surrounding them. One rested patiently at a skinfold, the other tapped lightly at a smooth knuckle, and the third wobbled drunkenly through the air, on silken appendages. The three butterflies, wings flickering between pale lemon yellow and deeper lime-tinted hues in the scattered rays of window blinds, seemed to have no other objective than to tease the boy's fingers.
Nagi Naoe smiled at the life flitting about his palm.
/Like moths to a flame./
"Do we have a small glass case of any kind?" The boy turned his midnight blue eyes toward the standing wall of English-printed newspaper at his left, tugging slightly at the top edge. "Can I keep them, Crawford?"
"Use a jar. Poke holes in the lid." Crawford's bored voice boomed over the rustling of turning pages, and a slight glint of lenses was seen over the gray barrier. "Where did you get them?"
Nagi shrugged, rosy lips tugged into a rueful smile. "They followed me home?"
"Funny things to keep as pets-- Ah... Never mind." Crawford pulled the newspaper down to reveal an expectant frown.
"Huh?-HEY!" An ashen arm reached from the unlit portion of the room and snatched the two butterflies perched atop Nagi's hand. "Farfie!"
Farfello opened his palm to reveal one smushed insect, and another with its wings caught between his middle and index finger. A half-smile broadcasted his discontent with the animals. "I don't like these two."
"Farfello, those are mine!... Were mine. Here, give me that one." The brunette made an effort to pry his teammate's fingers apart for his butterfly's freedom. Keeping the convulsing animal within a bubble of protection, Nagi watched as the third drunken butterfly floated to the Irishman's nose.
Nagi kept his mouth open, ready to utter warning as Farfarello raised his already murderous palm. Calloused fingers moved slowly to their target. "Mm." He made eye contact with Nagi and smirked. "I like this one." He scrunched his nose, and the insect fluttered to his waiting hand.
*
"KEN!" Youji's door flew open, and a head of mussed blonde hair poked out of the jarred doorway. "We finished tonight's mission in about ten seconds. Why am I still awake?!" Not only awake, Youji thought as he fished in his robe pocket, smokeless. He glared through the dim hallway at the ruckus.
"Just a - UNGH! - SECOND!" Ken stumbled backwards after finally kicking the door open, and evening air invaded the rest of the building as it ricocheted on its hinges. When he regained his balance, he peered into the dark room, and cursed. "Youji, come on!" Ken tossed the slim thermometer case to the blonde as he rushed in.
"What the-SHIT! It's cold in here!" Youji gasped through a breath of fog as he walked into the brisk room. He flicked the small bedside lamp on. "What happened?" he asked as he knelt beside Ken. Omi lay unconscious in his arms, breathing lightly through his mouth. The little color in his skin made him look almost like a fresh corpse. Youji shook the image from his head, then focused again on the feverish tinge in the boy's face.
Ken shook his head, hands on the boy's forehead and arm to gauge a temperature. "I don't know, but his fever has gotten worse. Let's get him back to the bed." Youji nodded, and wordlessly helped carry the warm body. After reaching the warmth of his sheets, Omi began to shiver.
"S-samui..." The boy clutched Youji's arm as Ken plucked the thermometer from his grasp and inserted it into Omi's mouth.
"He wasn't this sick before, was he?" Youji frowned, pulling the blankets up as high as he could.
Ken spied the open window and closed it, pointing to the blonde's watch. "The last time I checked, he wasn't. Take it out in two minutes, then give him the medicine." He gestured to the water glass and pill bottle in the hallway as he rubbed sleep away from his eyes. "I'll go look for more blankets."
"You can steal Aya's, he'll be staying at his sister's place all night."
*
/You can continue fighting for your body, and kill your friend, or you can give yourself up./
/NO! No... Don't hurt them. Promise me you won't hurt them./
/The dart in your hand will do well in his chest - like the arrow you put in mine./
/Please./
/No trying to kill yourself, now. Control. Complete control./
*
Something fell to the floor, and Omi shifted towards Youji's warmth. The man craned his neck to see the object, but looked up as a shadow approached the room. His face soured as he raised his gaze to the visitor. "Kiki!" He hissed, the animosity of his voice matching that of the kitten's. "You, get out! Now!"
The glow of her lime green eyes had become an eerie chartreuse - her pupiles minimized to black slits as she emitted the low angry noise from her throat. Her tail stood straight up, and the fur of her back followed suit.
Youji stood and raised a fist, in threat. "Go!" Backing away slowly, Kiki muttered a few course mewls and skittered away. He settled again and glanced at his watchface, noting the end of the two minute wait.
*
/Who are you?/
/Aria Mikata./
/I've never heard of you. I've never seen your name on a target list./
/Of course not. You had no idea who I was when you murdered me. But you're a smart boy. Here's a hint: you have three guesses./
/I don't...understand./
/It hurt like this./
*
"102.5," Youji peered at the small line of mercury. "That's pretty bad, kid." He looked back down at Omi, who had stopped shivering. In fact, the boy had stilled rather abruptly, still attached to his arm.
For his own peace-of-mind, Youji put his hand against Omi's cheek and felt his light breathing. "You're so warm. Get better, ok? You're scaring the hell out of Ken ... and me too."
"Youji-kun..." He croaked out, after exploding with a sudden cough.
Omi grunted as pain ripped through his back and stabbed his chest, and he saw someone - a blur a gray in his mind - fall to the floor. He saw the Ani Museum, and a great body of water. He also saw the table of a ritual - where an unconscious Sakura was layed out.
/Oh God.../
/It's a little late for that./
"Omi, daijoubu?"
/Estet, Youji. It's Estet./
Omi wanted to tell the man everything, to warn him, to tell him his fear, and to thank him for caring. But he soon realized that he was no longer seeing the world through his eyes, he was feeling the presence of everything in this room, and feeling the warm aura that was next to him - as well as the torrent of frigidity that had taken his place. He no longer had a voice to speak with, nor limbs to move. As he felt the command of his body being ripped away from his soul, his lips quirked up, involuntarily.
/So that's his name./
"Youji." He nuzzled the man's colder hand with his cheek and clutched his arm tightly. "Stay with me. It's just.. cold." With those last words, darkness creeped around him, until all was silent.