TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind

CHAPTER: Nine

BY: Simply Kim

GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)

CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz… who else? ^_^ (And, Ehehe... yeah, I forgot to mention in the preceding parts... the Crashers too. ^_^;

DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me… ^_^

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CHAPTER 9: Dredging Up the Unconscious

"Farf, if I spend another minute in front of this piece of minuet, I'm gonna die!"

Farfarello snickered and shook his head, fully amazed at how frustrated Schuldig was over an orchestra piece... and to think he was just studying it for a full five minutes...

"Schu, you've only been in front of that for a few minutes, how could you ever get sick of the looks of it that easily?"

Schuldig answered the question with a weary moan, his upper body slumping against his wooden study table. His hands gripped the edges of the flatboard and he immediately began ramming his head on the oaken surface.

"Oi, don't get yourself killed - if you do, then I'll be left alone to take care of your project!" Farfarello cried out, bounding over to his friend, taking hold of his arms and pulling him away from the piece of offended furniture, effectively preventing the German from disabling himself.

"Oh c'mon Farf, let me be in pain... it stimulates my brain cells!" He protested, his face contorted into a childish pout - a /weary/ childish pout. The blonde sighed, smiling softly as he ruffled Schuldig's already unruly hair.

"You can't be in pain - I won't allow you to." He murmured, gazing fondly at the tired features.

"Eh? You saying something Farf?" Schuldig asked, stopping mid-tirade, his emerald eyes searching the amused features, trying to find out what was going on behind the other's golden orbs.

"No, nothing."

Schuldig frowned in indecision. "Yeah, whatever." He sighed, turning back to the much-hated piece.

Farfarello shook his head and walked away from him, stopping and looking back just as he reached the door. "I'll be going out for some grub, gail, want something?"

"A nice dose of marijuana would do - unfortunately I don't smoke that stuff and I sure as hell don't want to start now... God, I hate my life... just bring me something you think I'll like..." Schuldig mumbled almost incoherently. "Wait..." He looked up, fixing the Irishman a confused look. "Who's Gail?"

Farfarello grinned slyly. "You are."

"Eh? My name's not that weird-sounding!" The redhead protested.

"It means stranger in my native tongue... I called you that because you're acting like one a while ago."

Schuldig gaped at him.

The blond smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in absolute amusement. "Stop fussing over petty things - it doesn't become you." He said quietly before finally letting himself out of the door.

The redhead left alone went into thinking... and immediately realized that Farfarello was right. He smiled fondly, remembering the name he was called with. "Gail... Hn. Well then..." He sat up straighter and frowned determinedly at his music exercise. "I wont be that anymore... I'm going to be myself - and do things MY way."

* * *

"I can't believe that Schu wanted us to participate in his program!" Omi cried out ecstatically. "I'm so nervous!"

Nagi gave his best friend a nervous smile. He was not so sure that he was ready to perform in front of a million people. "Me too Omi-kun"

"But?"

"But... I am not sure I could perform in... front of a million people..."

Omi smiled, unwrapping the plastic container of his beloved Snickers bar. "Of course you can - you're just nervous about it!"

Nagi's gaze was pinned on the fast-diminishing bar that Omi was barbarically devouring. "Uh... Omi... didn't Ran-san tell you to refrain from eating those?"

The blond tore into the luscious chocolate and munched defiantly. "Yes he did - but I sneaked in some... heh, if I eat another of those icky tofu thingies again - I'm gonna cut his eartails off!" He yelled, pumping his free fist up into the air.

"Really now."

Omi yelped as a deep melodious voice countered his empty threat.

"R - Ran-kun!" He breathed nervously. "Ah... heh-heh... umm... hello - what are you doing here?"

"I was on my way to get a pad of new music sheets in my room - Farfarello-san said that Schuldig-san needed it." Ran cocked a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Then I heard what you said..."

"Ehehe... it was just a joke!" Omi squeaked, backing away, clutching the remnants of his chocolate bar. "Eep!"

Fortunately for him, before Ran could catch up to his darting form, a deep voice called out from underneath Omi's window. The three boys stopped, obviously confused, and slowly inched their way to the silky draperies that swung with the soft breeze. Peeking through, they saw a very amused Crawford leaning back against something black... something that looked like...

Then all three of the spectators gasped, unable to put the panic out of their voice. The black thing Crawford was leaning on was a bike - a ruined bike. The soles of Crawford's Dr. Martens were caked with mud, and his foot was resting on the silvery finish of Ken's most prized possession - a sleek Ducati that he won from the lottery. The finish, which was then polished to loving perfection, was now muddy, and a few strips of dehydrated grass were sticking to the clumps of dirt.

Nagi's only reaction was a pale face and a slight shiver down his spine. Ran was close to panicking. If not for his overgrown sense of control, he would have shrieked right then and thrown himself out the window. He had seen enough lumps on Youji's now-lopsided (his paperweight bruises are still healing) head to realize what crossing Ken would lead to... in his calculations... well... it's not very promising. However, in contrast with the other two, Omi was a lump of freakishness. He was screaming his head off, ranting about what would happen to them the time Ken sees the damage to his worshipped possession.

"We're gonna DIE!" Omi shrieked, throwing up his hands in the air and running around like a headless chicken, stopping only to pant for exactly five seconds, and then resume his panicking again. "He's gonna SHI-NE us to the next millennium!"

At the words, Ran couldn't help but fall into a twitching lump on the floor.

<<<INTERMISSION>>>

RAN: Hey, isn't that supposed to be my script?

AUTHOR: Eh?

RAN: C'mon, you know, the SHI-NE thing...

AUTHOR: * scratches head in confusion *

RAN: * vein popping out of forehead, a crazed look on his face * don't play games with me! You know perfectly well what I'm talking about! The Shi-NE lines are all mine... MINE! BWAHAHAHA!

AUTHOR: * sweatdrop *

BRAD: Hey, have you seen Ran?

AUTHOR: * eyes wide * * points to an insanely laughing Ran * There he is...

BRAD: * gives a sweet smile * Thanks.* Proceeds to drag Ran outside the room *

AUTHOR: Uh... Crawford-san?

BRAD: Yeah? * Looks back *

AUTHOR: Is he alright? He seemed out of it... umm... unstable...

RAN: * repeating words, voice gaining momentum before lapsing into crazed laughter again * SHI - NE! That's my line... Not Omi's, not Ken's... MINE! ONLY MINE! Only I have the power to utter that powerful word! Bwahahahaha!

BRAD: * smiles proudly as he looks lovingly at Ran * He's alright.

AUTHOR: Umm... * skeptical * REALLY?

BRAD: Yup! He's fine whenever he's like that - if he doesn't utter anything about killing Takatori-san and say his famous "SHI-NE" one-liner, that's when I worry...

AUTHOR: * falls to a twitching lump on the floor *

<<<END INTERMISSION>>>

He sounds like Ken-kun's a lunatic! Ran thought, his mind conjuring up an image of a towering Ken, his eyes spewing forth balls of fire, and his teeth pointed and bared, closely resembling a huge closet monster. He sweatdropped, shaking his head multiple times to get rid of the tremendously ghastly and disturbing picture. Ken is not really like that, right? He bit his lower lip in worry.

He was thinking about the possible harm Ken would probably deal the older American.

"Hey, Ran! Let's go! Schuldig might have killed himself out of boredom by now!" Crawford called out for the second time.

Without another word, the redhead flew out of the door, rushing straight to his room, snatching the pile of paper sitting on top of his study table, and finally running down the carpeted hallway in rapid succession. He was out of the door and grabbing Crawford from his perch faster than before anyone would say 'Ducati' in perfect Italian.

He paid no heed, not minding the cries of protest from the American, never once relinquishing the tight grasp he had until they finally made it in front of Richter Hall, Schuldig's Dormitory. Once inside the elevator, he finally let out his breath, panting loudly as if the world had just challenged him in a worldwide marathon.

Crawford too was in a similar shape; being dragged unwillingly by a person whose speed rivaled that of a Ferrari racer, and whose legs were quite as enduring. His eyes traveled down the sleek and shapely form that was visible with the help of semi-tight, low-slung jeans. His eyes trekked the exposed lower abs, which was currently a sight to behold, since it was nearly unclothed, since Ran's shirt had ridden up courtesy of the strong whipping breeze. If only he could touch...

Crawford gulped, his eyes traveling straight up, taking note of the sensual way that Ran's chest heaved with every panting breath, the swan-like neck that arched deliciously as he leaned his head back against the wall of the elevator, and the amethyst eyes that had suddenly snapped open to look directly at his dark-brown orbs, who by now was tinted such that it was bordering at the edge of pure gold. Surprised at the questioning intensity the gem-like eyes presented, he instinctively stepped back.

"Uh... Crawford-san?" Ran asked, tilting his head to one side, deliberating on what was happening to his new friend. "Daijoubu?"

Crawford couldn't answer him. He couldn't understand what Ran was asking... His Japanese was rusty, and he was by no means interested in engaging in language lessons, which would probably fill the time vacant after dropping the vocalization course given him by the administration for the sole reason that he's no good at it.

"Uh..." He murmured, knocking once on his temple in a show of confusion. "Come again?"

By then, Ran was absolutely mortified. He wanted to stuff a sock in his pea-sized brain. How could he have forgotten that Crawford doesn't understand Japanese? He sighed, not knowing how to deal with the awkward situation. "Uh, go - umm... I mean, sorry... I was just asking if you're alright... you looked a little green just a while ago..."

"Oh, heh-heh... I'm fine, just... aroused... um, no, ROUSED... erm... from, umm... my... umm..."

"Perverted thoughts."

"Yes, perverted thoughts... eh?" Crawford looked straight at the elevator door, which was by then gaping open. "Hey, MY THOUGHTS ARE NOT PERVERTED, YOU DOPE!" He yelled with indignation, his fist waving in front of him with irritated force.

An amused Farfarello was smirking at the American, his eyes gleaming as he surveyed the crimson flooding the already pink cheeks. "Yes you are." He said calmly, knowing that it would send his friend defending his momentarily shattered dignity.

"Am not!" Crawford scowled, his golden brown eyes shooting darts of irritation at the Irishman. The blond, however, was unperturbed. He only raised a golden eyebrow and turned to an embarrassed Ran.

"See how he is?" He declared, gesturing at the other who was simmering with renewed discomfiture, while keeping a slender finger pushed on the 'open' button of the elevator's controls. "You'd better be careful around him, he's not stable. He's an all-around pervert."

If looks could kill, Farfarello would probably be down in a slush of peach and scarlet. Ran, however, turned as red as his hair, taking small embarrassed glances at Crawford, wondering if what Farfarello said was true... after all, he had just known the American for about two weeks... and he would have to admit, that he isn't exactly the best judge of character when it comes to people the same age as he was.

Crawford would have retorted something for his defense, when, fortunately, Schuldig's haphazard figure appeared. "What took you so long?" He asked in a ragged voice, his eyes drooping dangerously, teetering to the edge of sleep. "I thought you've all died out on me on the way here! Besides, you're holding up the elevator."

"Holding up the elevator?" Ran asked, confused. Schuldig gave him a tired smile and pointed to the small television that was currently showing the state the lobby was in. People were standing, waiting for the only available elevator in the dormitory. The line extended to the lounge near the front doors.

"MADRE DE DIOS! WHO THE FUCK IS HOLDING UP THE ELEVATOR ON THE SIXTH FLOOR? OI, PAŇERO, GET OUT OF THERE, PRONTO! " An exasperated, and very angry shout of complaint resonated around them.

Ran winced, and hurriedly stepped out of the elevator, followed quickly by Crawford, then Farfarello. Schuldig pressed his fingers on his temple in weariness, and gave them all a sly smile. "You put me in deep shit."

"In a what?" Crawford asked, his eyes straying curiously at his friend as he made his way towards the sliding glass doors of Schuldig's unit. "Why? They don't know who you are."

Schuldig gave a great sigh and shook his head. "Take a look around you, Brad, No one's in this floor except me! I told you that two years ago - or don't you remember?"

"No one's here except you for two years?" Ran asked, mystified.

"Yup, left me after they graduated two years ago. Not many European students live in this dorm, I don't know why though."

"But there are so many people outside!"

"They live on the lower floors. No one wants to be stuck in this creepy floor."

"Creepy?" The redhead couldn't help thinking that the people living there were too old to believe in ghosts. He removed his shoes as he entered the huge unit. "Why so?"

"Someone died in this floor months after the others graduated." Schuldig revealed, his eyes darkening. "They say she's haunting the place, especially room 613."

Farfarello's eyes misted for a while, giving Ran the impression that they both knew who died back then - and were good friends with that person too.

"Gomen."

Farfarello looked at him strangely, and blinked back obvious tears. He was muttering something that sounded like 'She always used to say that when she was alive... If only I know what that meant...'

"English, Ran, we cannot understand you much when you speak your native tongue, remember?" Schuldig chided him, holding out his hand for the music sheets, which Ran dutifully handed out.

"Uh, I said... umm... sorry."

"That's alright." The German grinned, the tiredness in his eyes gone as he faced the harpsichord with renewed vigor. "Well, come on, let's get this thing going!" He cried out, pumping his fist energetically in the air.

"Really Schu, you should try not to act so hyper all the time, you might scare Ran off." Crawford reprimanded him playfully.

"Really now, Crawfie? At least I'm not having perverted thoughts about him!" He fired back.

Ran was, again, turning red from obvious embarrassment and confusion.

However, as for Farfarello, he just stood there, his face curiously blank, his mind screaming one word...

'Sorry... she said she was sorry...'

Those words...

They hurt.

* * *

Omi was currently deviating a plan on how to escape to Siberia when Ken banged open the door and growled, his eyes flashing with pure evil, that one would think he had been possessed by the devil himself.

"WHO DAMAGED MY PRISTINELY BEAUTIFUL MOTORCYCLE?"

Nagi cringed at the volume of the angry voice, his eyes straying towards Omi, who was doing his best to huddle in the dim part of the room where he thought he couldn't be seen. He couldn't help thinking that there was no place in the room where one cannot be seen.

The overhead lights were turned on all the time.

"Uh, ohayo, Ken-kun... umm... Ehehe..."

Omi was inching his way towards where Nagi sat quietly as Ken took menacing steps his way.

Nagi was sorely tempted to tell the truth, that it was Crawford who had done it, but he couldn't. "Friends protect friends - even if the one affected was a friend too", Omi had said half an hour before.

Sometimes, he couldn't understand his friend's sense of rationality.

He kept his mouth shut, his hands finding Omi's at last as the golden-haired lump of energy reached his side, senses alerted, waiting for the moment Ken would strike.

"Oi, easy there ken-ken, you can always clean it up again!" Youji, who arrived just in time to see Ken's menacing steps, frantically hurled himself between the angry teen and the much younger ones who needed his protection.

"Youji-kun..." Nagi muttered, almost panicking as Ken took another step, unperturbed by the fact that someone taller, older, and much more experienced in fighting than him was hindering his revenge. He will get the evil man who tainted the purity of his beloved Ducati!

"I know, I know..." Youji muttered back, his eyes straying to the whimpering features of Omi, and the pale face of Nagi. "I know what to do." He said, softly, careful not to let Ken hear. "Nagi, grab a tight hold on Omi's hand, Omi, straighten yourself, and be prepared." As he said this, he grabbed hold of Nagi's slender wrist, his eyes calculating the length of the space between them and the wide open doors.

"Korosu!" Ken said, popping the joints of his knuckles in a motion of wrath. "I'm gonna kill whoever did that... K'so!" He swore, his eyes narrowing into thin slits as the three inched towards the direction of the door.

When they were but a few inches from the wooden wings of freedom...

"NOW!"

With a forceful yank, he ran out of Omi's room, and straight to the flight of stairs beckoning to be used. The two were dragged with him, running as fast as their legs could carry them, leaving behind Ken's mad scream.

"SHI-NE! OMAE O KOROSU!"

* * *

Crawford was studying the face before him intensely.

Crimson tresses rivaling the color of blood, lips the hue of ripe strawberries shimmering under the midday sun, lashes the color of the most exotic wine, skin as pale as alabaster... soft as the finest silk.

Marvelous...

It was the only word he could think of at the moment to describe the beauty of the boy slumbering before him.

They were in Schuldig's room, and Ran was down for the count, finally closing his lashes as the clock chimed eight in the evening. He was helping all three of them in organizing the whole concerto, making sure that the harpsichord was in the right tune, made them an afternoon snack that consisted of weird-looking rice balls that looked quite unappetizing, but turned out to be good, making them stuff themselves with the culinary masterpiece silly.

He smiled softly, running a finger lightly on the amazingly smooth and supple cheek. His smile widened adoringly as Ran murmured something in his sleep and proceeded to shiver slightly as the finger stroked his skin.

Crawford shook his head in amazement.

Sensitive to the merest touch - I wonder how he is in the arms of passion...

He frowned at the thought, remembering Farfarello's allegation before that he was thinking perverted thoughts. I'm not thinking perverted../ Then, his eyes widened. I WAS thinking perverted thoughts...

Shaken, he turned back to the sleeping boy. "Perverted... it's not perverted... that sounds so dirty." He murmured, his fingers combing through the blood-colored hair. "I was thinking..."

He leaned in and laid his lips lightly on the slightly parted lips.

He could feel the gush of breath from the warm mouth under his, the breath that was somehow being transferred to him through the minute ritual he was performing.

The lips were soft... like rose petals in their blooming days.

I was thinking../

He finally let go, and straightened up, his eyes gazing tenderly at the focal point of his currently burgeoning emotions.

"I wasn't thinking perverted thoughts... I was thinking... passionate thoughts."

* * *

"Ran-kun and Crawford-san owes us a full lunch." Omi muttered darkly as he scrubbed vigorously on a grass stain on the metallic finish of Ken's motorcycle. The poor lighting was making his eyes sting, for it was already eight in the evening. Ken had driven the motorcycle through a series of mud splashes, and, finally, at exactly seven, he returned with a ruined contraption, ordering the three of them to clean it for him.

Ken was a cruel, cruel man.

"I second that." Youji muttered just as darkly. "And a pack of cigarettes for getting me to trouble too."

Nagi did not need to say anything. He just continued his chores without any semblance of sound except a frustrated sigh as he scrubbed at one particularly stubborn splatter of icky mud.

Ken had caught them after all...

<FLASHBACK>

They were at the lobby of their dorm and were breathing hard from the exertion. They finally escaped Ken!

Omi was all smiles, grateful for another chance to live, Nagi was still pale, but a hint of redness marked his cheek, probably from running to fast, and Youji was laughing as he thought of the fact that they outran Ken that time.

They were breathing sighs of obvious relief when they heard the elevator doors open with a melodious ding.

"Going somewhere, minna?"

Their eyes widened, almost popping out of their sockets. Slowly, they turned around.

"You forgot the elevators." Ken grinned manically, stepping out of the elevator with renewed vengeance. "Never thought I could catch up, didn't you?"

With a sharp cry, Youji, Omi and Nagi ran straight out the building doors and towards the parking lot where Youji kept his beloved Seven.

Youji swore he forgot something, but he couldn't remember what it was. It was only when he tried opening Seven's doors, when he remembered what was missing.

His...

"Looking for this?" Ken, who was towering over them, jingling the keys he held in his hand.

"IYA!!!"

<END FLASHBACK>

"Ran-kun..." Omi sighed, remembering the panicked look in the redhead's eyes when he realized that Crawford was in trouble. "I hope you're having a good time now, or else, our troubles would be futile."

"Tell me about it." Youji agreed, nodding his head as he wiped soapsuds on his cheeks. Youji got the information out of Omi as they started the strenuous cleaning. Frankly, he was happy for Ran, the guy sure needs something to keep his eyes burning bright, instead of the sadness that seemed to linger in the amethyst gaze all the time. "But they still owe us lunch."

Friends... Nagi thought. Ran-san... the things we do for you...

* * *

Ran was confused.

He was dreaming, he knew, but the fragments seemed all too real...

Did Crawford really kiss me?

He considered the possibilities... however, he came up with nothing.

Nah - maybe I am really just dreaming...

And if he was... there was a part of him that he felt wanted it to be true...

Crawford-san...

* * *

TBC

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A/N: Yay! My final exams are over! I finally had the sense to continue this as soon as possible! And... TADA! Here it is! ^^ Hope you like it people! Reviews! Reviews! ^^

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