TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind

CHAPTER: Thirteen

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… ^_^

NOTES: A form of enlightenment… if you could ever call this chapter that! Oh, yeah, btw, again, this thing: (~*~), heralds Crawford's visions!

CHAPTER 13: Meisterwerk Der Schuld

* * * * * * * *

"Oi, you're doing it wrong idiot!"

"NANI? If I'm doing it wrong, then why do you even insist I do this, baka gaijin?"

"Because you're the only one good at doing that idiot!"

"Who are you calling idiot?"

"You!"

"NANI?"

"I thought you're only an idiot... don't tell me you're deaf now!"

"Oi, no fighting! You'll ruin the stage!"

"Schu, stop doing that... you're going to ruin your own show if Youji's to quit."

"Warum ist es immer ichª?" The German protested, pouting. "It's his fault!"

Youji glared balefully at him. "Why the heck is it my fault? You're the one who started screaming your guts out just to tell me what I did wrong!" He huffed. "You never gave me enough instructions, and then you screamed like a fucking banshee saying that I'm not doing my job right!"

"You AREN'T doing it right idiot!" Schuldig fired back, glaring at him with enough animosity to last the entire crew for a lifetime. "And I DID give you enough instructions - you just did not listen!"

"I was -"

"Okay guys, time out!" Farfarello yelled above the overpowering din.

Then descended silence.

Farfarello sighed, his breath coming out as a mushroom-like gush of air from his parted lips, the cloud materializing due to his exposure to the air-conditioning unit. The machine was turned at full power. "We're not going to get these preparations right of both of you are insisting on insulting each other day in and day out. I've got enough of this for three straight days... don't you have anything better to do that grapple with and indict each other?" He closed his eyes as something resembling peace crashed through the entire workforce. Even with them closed, he could practically see the rest of the crew's relieved faces at the prospect of having a serene workplace to hone. He opened his eyes and gazed sternly at the formerly warring people.

"Thank God..." Nagi sighed with enough emphasis to make the Irishman turn his golden gaze on him. His face showing a bit more color than the last Farfarello had seen it. He heard the boy got sick, and he was glad that he seemed okay now. "Peace at last..."

"Amen to that, Nagi-kun..." Omi answered, going back to where he left off with the curtains.

There was a murmur of agreement as they went back to working on the stage.

"Uh, sorry, guys." Schuldig murmured, his cheeks stained slightly in crimson. "I was just worried about this whole show thing, and well, I blew off..."

"Uh, sorry too..." Youji said, an apologetic smile on his lips. "I was just tired... I guess... I've been working hard these past few days and, well, the load seems to be getting the best of me and I blow at the slightest form of irritation... Sorry Schuldig..."

"Yeah... you've been working hard these past few days... and you're doing a great job..." The German walked over to where the top of the curtains met the ceiling, surveying the pulley where the rope was supposed to slide into. "You were trying to do a great job after all..."

Youji immediately bristled. "What do you mean by that?" His eyes narrowed, trying to gauge if he was just dealt an insult.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." the redhead gave him a nauseatingly saccharine smile. "Did I offend you? I mean, this is not working well... and I thought it must have taken a dunce to have this all figured out and then do it sloppily... Oh... who the heck did this anyway?"

Blond eyebrows met directly on top of a high nose. "I did." He growled irritably. "You have any problem with that?"

"Oh my..." The German said in mock surprise. "Why Youji, I never thought you're capable of doing something so... mediocre."

"Oi, it wasn't a mediocre work you nosy gaijin!" Ken butted in, defending Youji. "And he had worked hard for that too! It isn't easy to climb the high ladder multiple times and get a hernia from reaching behind too often!"

Schuldig gave him an amused smile. "Ooh, defensive much?" He grinned slyly.

Ken immediately turned a bright shade of red. "Oi..."

"Leave Ken out of this." Youji huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I worked hard for that, so I get to defend my work, not him."

"I told you, you were doing things wrong, idiot..."

Emerald eyes narrowed. "No, I did not... I worked under poor information... who wouldn't make a mistake?"

"I gave enough info about your job!" Schuldig argued, animosity back on his face.

"Yeah right." The Japanese musician snorted. "Who's the idiot now?"

It was clear that trouble was beginning to brew, and the rest of the people working slunk back, retreating, unwilling to be a part of the madness that they surely knew would soon ensue.

Farfarello shook his head, groaning. Great. Another fight. He began counting in his head. Knowing Schuldig, retaliation would be about...

3...

2...

1...

0...

"I am NOT an idiot!"

Giving the others a tired look, he shrugged helplessly and proceeded on gluing the artificial flowers together.

This was definitely a BAD day...

* * *

"C-Crawford...san..."

"Are you alright?" Crawford's brow furrowed as a panicked look entered Ran's eyes.

"I-I'm fine... A-A... I mean... Umm... What am I doing here?" The last word came almost in a shout as an internal battle was waged. Will he try to get away from the comforting hold, or will it be better if he stays?

"You tell me." Crawford's eyes glittered in amusement, the pain he was experiencing appearing as dim glimmer swimming in pools of golden browns. "I saw you here... well... not quite here..."

"I don't understand Crawford-san..." The Japanese youth said incredulously. "I was sleeping in my bed a while ago... I was..."

A dark head swished from side to side. "No, I saw you... in another world, I guess... the place was so dark..." His brow furrowed as he peered at him. "What's happening, Ran?"

There was fear in the sudden stiffening of the redhead's body. He averted his eyes. "I don't know what you're saying, Crawford-san."

His voice was so quiet that he might have not heard it if not for his sharp ears.

"Tell me the truth. What was that? Why was it that when you woke up, the images disappeared?" The American's resolve was strong. He must know what the hell was that that happened! A painful thud awarded his thoughts.

He winced.

Ran, seeing him, inched carefully away, sitting up quickly when he disentangled his body from strong arms, mistaking the expression as that of incredulity and disgust.

"I'm sorry." He started. "I should have told you sooner... but I did not know how..."

"Ran..."

The redhead held up a hand to stop his words. "No, Crawford-san... should know - Iya - you MUST know..." he took a deep breath and found the courage to stare into the American's eyes.

"I'm not normal... I'm..."

Ran sighed, turning away from him.

"I've learned about this ability a year before my family died..." He gazed at the still water of the pond, trying hard not to let the past ache catch up with him again. "I'm not normal..."

"I'm a Hybrid."

Silence.

"Uh... can you please run that by me again?" Crawford's eyes were filled with confusion. "I didn't quite understand that..."

"I'm a Hybrid." Ran repeated, his face falling as he saw the shocked look that followed the confusion. "I can do lots of things that normal people don't do..."

"I have dreams... and those dreams paint even the conscious world. I can change many things... but excessive use would be my death, so I don't use my talent much... Everything that I set my mind on will come true as I continue sleeping and dreaming them... I can link into people's minds too... I'm also a telepath, I guess..."

"I've got lots of talents. I can create snow... I can destroy anything... but it would mean my death if I exceed the quota my body gives me... The best is the gift of song." Ran sighed, turning away. "I know it sounds really cheesy, but... It's true. When I sing a song, I dream. Things begin painting themselves into existence... and every person who hears me will feel and see them too if I let them. That's one of the reasons why I don't want to... sing anymore... That reason... but not that alone..."

Silence.

Confused by the reigning silence, Ran looked up, his amethyst eyes questioning, and quite alarmed as he surveyed his companion's state.

Crawford seemed to be lost. His eyes looked blank... as if he was in a trance...

* * *

"We spotted the Link sir!"

"Very well, get him."

* * *

Schuldig was rubbing his hand over his bandaged arm.

He winced.

Lesson number one...

Never EVER cross Kudou Youji.

Lesson number two...

Never EVER let Jei, a.k.a. Farfarello clean his wounds for him. He cleans not just the skin... he literally takes away more of the blood INSIDE, and not the splatters outside.

He sighed as he sauntered up to the gates of his dorm. It was a bit creepy though... no one was in sight, and it was only two in the afternoon...

Strange.

Suddenly, a noise issued from behind him. Thinking it was Kudou who followed him just to rub in the fact that he won their argument, he rolled his eyes and sighed in fatigue. "Look, Youji, I did not lose, alright? I just let you win because -"

His eyes widened as an unfamiliar, yet familiar face greeted his line of sight.

A sudden pain on the back of his head...

And everything went black.

* * *

"I'm a Hybrid."

It was the mention of that word again that sent him back to unwanted memories...

<FLASHBACK>

"You have to do it."

"I - I can't... please, anything but that..."

"You have no choice. It's either you do it, or I make a choice for you."

"But - but, sir... why?"

"He's essential to my plans. That's all you need to know."

Crawford could not even decipher what the reason was. Essential to his plans? Someone so young is THAT essential?

"Think carefully, Bradley, boy. There are many things you have to consider first before going against what I tell you to."

Golden browns widened to the point of popping, and a bead of salty sweat slid down his temple. He wouldn't...

However, as he saw the determined and frighteningly bloodthirsty look in those beady eyes, he knew the man WOULD do whatever he wanted... He would. He thought miserably. But why me? Why not a freelance assassin to do the job? Is it because of availability? Is it because of the fact that I am the only one capable of doing the dirty job? Or is it because it would mean more costs to hire a professional killer?

Thoughts were whirring around his head, and he clutched at it in pain and indecision. Engel... Jei... They would surely die if he doesn't do this... the toddler in the Intensive Care Unit of the laboratory who they said defied the laws of Physics whenever his talent was awakened... Him, Engel and Jei... they would all die... no, he couldn't let that happen... They had been his family for quite some time now... and they mean everything to him... he wouldn't let them die...

With a defiant tingly feeling running up and down his spine, he straightened up and gazed with renewed determination. I will not let them die... I will most definitely not! He cringed as he saw the fleeting triumph in those evil eyes.

He held out his hand.

And a heavy metallic object weighed it down.

There was no turning back.

* * *

"Don't stop until I tell you to!"

"I cannot hold on anymore!"

"We're going to make it... if we don't do this, they'll get us for sure!"

"Niichan... *pant* my heart... Itai..."

"Aya!"

His feet ached, but he knew he must go on... too many lives depended on his actions... he hoped for a successful mission... however, he couldn't shake off the feeling of sorrow for the young boy he and the other bodyguards were chasing. Their footsteps rang on the hard pavement. The sound, Crawford knew, would be the basis of the redoubled efforts the siblings were making to escape. The two within his range, he raised the gun and squinted a bit, concentrating, trying to keep his hands steady as he prepared for his first kill. One was already down, and the two figures merged into one, their pace much slower as the taller finally collapsed. The boy couldn't go on with his obviously injured sister in tow.

They were easy target.

He squinted again, aiming for a curved body.

Concentrate.

No fears, no sympathy.

No nothing.

Sweat started dripping down his temples, saturating the collar of his shirt as they ran down his strong neck.

It was too late.

His eyes dilated, Crawford felt the kick of the weapon he held in his hand.

There was the reverberating scream of a loaded gun matching with an agonized shriek of a person in extreme pain.

His talent kicked in as the first shot was made. His vision pained a horrific picture. The boy's eyes were blank. He could see the boy even in dim light. There was the steady flow of warm blood gushing down his pale arms.

He heard the boy murmur something unintelligible.

Crawford saw his captor make his way toward the distraught being.

A pudgy hand slid the steel barrel of the gun against the new captive's forehead; and the boy slowly looked up at the gun pointed smack between his eyes.

His captor and long time employer was saying something... obviously sneering at the boy with newfound interest. Something about what he had heard happened many times for the past week... Poor girl... there was a name... something that sounded much like the Japanese word "AYA"... and he instantly knew that his thoughts were right. The raped girl... the sick and raped girl...

The boy's sister...

The boy's sister who he had just killed...

His eyes glistened with unwanted tears.

Crawford turned his eyes towards where the boy was situated. He was about to be held captive... He instantly knew. And then their eyes met in the dark.

Pain-filled amethysts dancing with freely flowing tears.

They would have been beautiful if they weren't so... painfully dead.

Painfully dead with nothing but utter loss and exhaustion for company.

"KISAMA!" The boy growled as he somehow focused on something said cruelly to him, dropping the lifeless body of his sister and lunging angrily at the gloating murderer. "... DIE!" A leather belt materialized from nowhere and looped around the boy's neck, choking him as it was pulled back.

He was right - again.

Now the boy was now officially a captive.

His talent had proved itself again.

A shiver ran down the young American's spine as the elder man laughed manically, his eyes glinting with pure evil...

Takatori.

Takatori Reiji.

Desperation...

There was desperation in the air... he could feel it...

His eyes strayed once again to the boy... and discovered that the amethyst eyes were trained at him... accusing... murderous... and then... they morphed into the pain-filled orbs he had just seen earlier...

He couldn't understand what he was feeling...

Compassion?

Pain?

"Poor boy." One guard hissed to his comrade. "I wonder what would happen to that kid... Takatori-sama has him... I wonder if he would wind up like the others who came before him..."

The others who came before him...

The ones whom he learned before, were under the waters of the unforgiving Pacific...

DEAD.

He closed his eyes as the feeling coursing through his psyche engulfed his senses. The boy had died the moment his sister had died... Crawford made sure of that when he pulled the trigger.

And now there's the discovery that he may have not done the right thing after all...

He was subjecting the boy to death again.

"Why did the boss want such a frail-looking kid?" Another of the guards asked, very much confused.

"Haven't you heard?" The head of the group said noncommittally. He smirked. "The kid's got a lot of potential. He can keep Takatori-sama up in the ranks and would most probably aid him in his quest to rule over every single fucking person in this equally fucking world!"

"Eh?"

"Didn't you know?" The man continued. "The kid's a HYBRID!"

<END FLASHBACK>

"Crawford-san?"

A tug on his sleeve prompted Crawford to snap into attention. He looked down at the confused gaze given him by gemstone eyes.

At the sight of those eyes, he immediately made the connection.

Amethyst eyes... Pale features... Pain lurking in his soul... Hybrid...

Amethyst eyes.

Hybrid.

His own golden brown irises were transformed into tiny dots as he stared in horror.

Ran!

Ran was the boy who was captured by Takatori Reiji years ago...

And Crawford was the one who killed his last anchor to sanity.

He had killed Ran's sister.

The girl named Aya...

Crawford killed her...

HE killed her.

That feeling again...

There was a horrified tingle in him again... and something else... something that ate his guts...

What is it he was feeling?

Compassion?

Sympathy?

"Are you alright, Crawford-san?" Ran inquired worriedly. "You looked like you're caught doing something wrong... shell-shocked too if I may add..."

Guilt.

GUILT.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore.

Ran should not come close to him... If ever he learns the truth, or connects loose ends together, he was sure that he could not bear the consequences.

Ran had been an essential part of his life the moment he set eyes on him... He knew if he was discovered, that he would be hated - fervently...

And he knew he couldn't handle that...

He just couldn't.

Because...

Because...

In a span of such a short time...

He already loved him...

He loves him.

* * *

Ran touched Crawford's sleeves again, intent on knowing what was making the other uncomfortable... terribly uncomfortable.

However, a hand slapped his away, and he immediately looked up to blank eyes. He gasped at the transformation, and leaned away on instinct. What was going on?

"Stay away from me."

Ran's eyes widened at such cold words.

"You're a freak. Don't touch me."

With the parting shot, Crawford stood up, brushed his pants, and moved quickly away, his figure shrinking as he walked farther...

Farther away from Ran.

And Ran could not do anything except...

Except to just watch.

Agonizingly.

* * *

Schuldig found himself tied to and hanging from a wooden beam in the art gallery of the Conservatorio. He looked wildly around and finally settled on his body. His arms were upraised and roped together, exposing his naked form. His skin was riddled with fresh cuts and bruises, intertwining with the lone whiplash above his groin.

"Ah, you're finally awake!"

Schuldig's eyes slanted in anger.

An elder man saluted with a chubby hand.

Glasses glinted under the gallery's dim lights.

"Missed me?" Came the taunting question.

Schuldig hissed with all the venom he could muster.

"Takatori"

* * *

Farfarello felt something scratch his somewhat disoriented mind.

Suddenly, a vision of Schuldig hanging from a beam in what appeared to be the Conservatorio's art gallery entered his picture memory.

His eyes widened as numerous bruises were presented... and a familiar one just above the groin.

"Schuldig..." He murmured, grabbing his coat quickly, and running as fast as he could with a foot injury, for the gallery who was at the corner from his dormitory. "Schuldig, hold on..."

"Love, I'm coming for you..." He whispered, hoping against hope that he would reach the German before the much-hated person included in the flash of picture killed him.

"Damn you, Takatori!"

* * *

Crawford knew he was being unfair...

But he couldn't help it...

Ran deserves a better company than him...

It's better this way.

* * *

"So you finally remembered." Takatori Reiji laughed cruelly, waving a bloody whip back and forth. "I was wondering when you would."

"Stop..." Schuldig wheezed as the whip connected painfully with his pectorals. "Stop, please..."

Cruel laughter.

A cold finger pressed against the end of the old whiplash above his exposed groin.

"Ah, you still have this..."

"No thanks ... to... Ah! You..." Schuldig grated out in pain.

"I enjoyed those days... you were a good whore back then, you know." Takatori murmured quite possessively as he traced the closed welt with the tips of his fingers. "So obedient... mouth so good... body so responsive... ahh... what I wouldn't give to taste you again..."

The hand descended to the thatch of hair that bordered his private areas.

Schuldig could not do anything but whimper in terror as he remembered the "services" he gave the elder man years ago...

He closed his eyes and felt the violating hand fondle him...

"Hands off." A familiar voice suddenly rang out loud and clear in the closed gallery. "NOW."

Slowly, the German opened his eyes.

Standing by the door was a beaten angel, his blond hair gleaming gold, and spattered with blood from a recent kill.

From other people.

There was a crazed look in the golden irises as he glared hatefully at Takatori's gleeful form.

"Ah... wonderful for you to join our discussion." The old man laughed, unfazed by the danger Farfarello presented.

Farfarello lifted his hand.

He was carrying a bloody knife.

"Let him down."

"I won't."

Guards suddenly swarmed the place, cutting off any chance for escape.

"Jei... get out of here..." Schuldig muttered weakly, giving him a wan smile. "I'll take care of this... No need to get jumbled up in this fucking nonsense..."

Farfarello's golden eyes bored into his jade ones.

The Irishman shook his head. "I will die first before I leave you here with HIM." He nodded distastefully towards the antagonist.

It was true that he's not saved yet.

Schuldig was still hanging from the low beam, bound, and he was still completely unclothed... But, he couldn't deny that... for the first time in his life...

He felt safe.

* * *

Why did Crawford shove him away?

Is he really that freaky?

Maybe he was...

He did not deserve anything...

He wanted to die...

He had nothing more to live for...

He's alone once again...

Maybe...

It's better this way...

* * * * * * * *

TBC

* * * * * * * *

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the LOOONG delay... ^^;;; Got lotsa schoolwork, so... I haven't got the chance to update for a long while. Well, here's the chapter, and I do hope you enjoyed reading the whole thing! ^_^ Reviews everyone! ^_^