Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: 1300 You know the Fibonacci sequence comes from breeding rabbits, right?
Sequel to Not Today
Thanks to quixotic_sense for
He would never have suspected how difficult it would be to bring Nagi into his office Tuesday afternoon and not think about Monday night.
Nagi sat down, crossed his legs, professional as always.
As if he hadn't tried his telekinesis last night; as if Mamoru hadn't come so hard he'd been afraid of blacking out; as if Nagi hadn't stayed, for the first night since they'd returned.
It wasn't the time to think about any of those things.
Mamoru set the audio player in front of Nagi and pressed play.
"...and Crawford?" The recording was tinny and faint, but Nagi's voice was clear enough.
"All over the place. Still asking me to kill him," Schuldig's voice, rougher than Mamoru remembered.
"You should just give him what he wants."
"I can't," he said. "I'm greedy. Like you are."
No reply from Nagi.
"You sure you want this, kid?" Schuldig said. "It sucks."
"I know," Nagi said.
Mamoru turned off the tape. Why didn't you tell me? he thought. How long have you been hiding this? What he finally asked was, "What's wrong with Crawford?" He'd been wondering ever since he'd first heard the tape, with Javanese standing in front of him like she'd won a prize and was ready to be rewarded. Rex had glared at her on the way out, showing in her face what Mamoru was feeling.
Nagi looked at the floor. "Brain damage, they think. Maybe from injuries when we brought Eszett down, maybe just fried from the precognition; it happens. Schuldig says he floats in and out. He didn't recognize me the time I came to see him. Mostly what's clear are the visions."
"That's awful," Mamoru said.
"Schuldig should probably kill him," Nagi said, sounding unconvinced.
"You wouldn't though," Mamoru said. "You'd just let him be there, half-alive, hoping he'd snap out of it someday."
"I don't know."
"...but that's exactly what you're doing now."
Nagi looked at him, just a slight widening of his eyes giving him away. "I--"
"You don't want this. You can walk away from this any time you want to. And you're still here. That's what you were talking with Schuldig about. You're greedy. Like him."
"Mamoru," Nagi said. Something rattled on the desk.
"You're here," he said, and reached out for Nagi. Nagi flinched, and something behind him shattered.
"What do you want, Nagi?"
Nagi looked angry. "Are you sure you want to know the answer? It's not like you know what you want."
I just want you, Mamoru thought, and hated himself for it. Kritiker has been changing the world, or trying to, and he had friends to protect and people to take care of and then Nagi looked at him and all of it paled and Mamoru just wanted.
Maybe he was greedy too.
"How'd you find out?" Nagi asked. "Javanese?"
"I thought it was her surveillance." Nagi leaned back in his chair. "She won't be able to find them. You probably could."
"I won't." He looks down at the paperwork on his desk. "But...I think maybe you should go. There will be concerns about a security breach, about where your loyalties lie...." He picked something up, something important. He couldn't focus on what it was, on what the words said. Rex had said something to him his morning, and that had been important too, and he couldn't remember any of it. What he remembered was that Nagi woke up before him this morning and made coffee, and it had been hot and strong and he'd almost burned his tongue and Nagi had kissed him afterward.
Nagi got up. "There's a story. It's a Russian folktale. They made us learn it at Rosenkreuz." He walked over and sat on the edge of the desk. "There was a peasant, you see, who was clever at riddles. So clever she impressed the Tsar, and they were married. She had one provision put in her wedding contract: That she be allowed to take the thing she liked best if they ever divorced. Well, the ladies at court resented having a peasant as the Tsarina, and they spread rumors about her. Nasty stuff. The Tsar didn't want to believe it, but it was so prevalent after a while he thought it must be true, and he threw her out of the palace-- exiled her to Siberia, something like that.
"He got kidnapped that night. He came out of the box he'd been thrown in, and there was the Tsarina. He screamed and cried about treason, and she said, 'you said I could take the thing I liked best when I go. And that's you.' And all the rumors and lies were forgotten, and they went back to the palace together. Happily ever after.
"We always figured the lesson was 'always make sure you're smarter than the people you're working for.'" He pushed his hair out of his eyes.
"People like us don't live happily ever after," Mamoru said.
"No," Nagi said. "But I'm damned if you'll to rot to death alone."
The last thing Mamoru remembered was Nagi moving and the windows blowing out.
They said they came from Tokyo. They were the crushes of half the department; slim, attractive, smart, unfailingly polite to the professors and secretaries. General consensus was that they only had eyes for each other, but it didn't stop some of the staff from dreaming: "Maybe," Jean said wistfully, "they'd just let me run the video camera."
They had an apartment off-campus, meticulously clean, stacked with books and computer equipment. They had no security system; none was needed.
They ate at the campus coffeeshop, had a few friends and study groups once in a while, but mostly they kept to themselves.
They should have been bored.
Schuldig woke up at three am, thinking at first it was the thunder. When he realized it was nothing of the kind, he got up and walked over to Crawford's bed, knitted Crawford's fingers in his own.
"I understand," Crawford said, sounding more lucid than he had in months. "Why you wouldn't--"
"Shut up," Schuldig said, and squeezed Crawford's hand. He could feel all the bones in his fingers, and they felt so fragile in his grip.
"At least the children are happy. Kritiker really thinks they're dead. Morons." Crawford opened his eyes for a moment. "You know, they're in my hometown?"
"You're kidding me--"
But Crawford was already gone.
Schuldig closed Crawford's eyes and stepped back as the hospital staff rushed in. He walked out the door, out of the hospital.
It was raining in Yamagata, big fat drops hitting the pavement. Schuldig pulled out a cigarette anyway; he'd quit years ago, when Crawford would share ghoulish details of his death from lung cancer any time he itched to light up. When Crawford's mind started frying, he'd decided he didn't really care any more.
Be greedy, Nagi, he thought as the lighter flared. Don't ever fucking stop.
Haru was sitting on their bed looking out the window when Ben came home, his knees tucked up underneath him.
There was something so wrong in his posture. "You okay?"
"Crawford's gone," Haru said. "I mean, I'm sort of glad, but...." Ben kissed him at the nape of his neck and Haru turned into the touch. "Yeah," he said. "Please."
Ben pushed him into the mattress and slid his shirt over his head.
The aftermath was a blur, both of them shaking, Ben's kisses sour with Haru's taste as they sank back down on the bed, tangled together, Haru's hands tangling into Ben's hair, the comforter bunched up underneath them.
"I'm skipping class tomorrow," Haru said, his hand on Ben's chest.
"You want to be alone?"
Ben wrapped his arms around Haru. "Good."