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The Piano Trilogy	By : Nakkinomiko Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1693 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don’t own Weiss Kreuz or any of the characters—last I knew that honor went to Koyasu Takehito. I make no money from this…I just like to play with them.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Disclaimer: I don’t own Weiss Kreuz or any of the characters—last I knew that honor went to Koyasu Takehito. I make no money from this…I just like to play with them.

A/N: Um, more yaoi in this one, however, more of a lime rather than a lemon. And sap, and some OOC…and well, you get the idea. This is the Christmas part of this fic, and the reason I should have posted it a few weeks ago. Rodisquall, I was so excited to get your review on this. I’m glad that you are enjoying it! I wish I could give you more Yohji/Schuldig smut, but this fic has actually been complete for several years…I’m just now getting around to posting it! This is the Ran/Crawford part of this little universe. The next chapter has the Aya-chan/Farf stuff. I don’t know why, but whenever I write in this fandom and both Aya-chan and Farfarello are in the story, they always gravitate to each other! As you can imagine, that drives Ran nuts. ::evil laughter::

Anyway, on with the fic. I’ll post the last part after I’ve fixed a few things in it that are bugging me!

*****

The Piano Trilogy

Part Two: White Christmas

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.”

“He’s going to be madder than hell at you . . . and me, for that matter. We’re not even supposed to know about her, Brad. And I don’t know about you, but the thought of Ran Fujimiya being pissed off at me is not a pleasant one.”

“Coward.” The words were teasing.

“Oh, easy for you to say. You’re not the one he’s going to skewer!”

“I’ll tell him it was my idea. I’ll tell him I made you do it. Then he can skewer me, instead.”

Schuldig paused as Crawford spoke the words, and for the first time in quite some time he really looked at his leader and friend. It had been nearly a year since Yohji Kudoh had selflessly taken a bullet that had been meant for Schuldig and set into motion a series of events that had won Schwarz freedom from Estet. Schuldig had been so busy falling head over heels for Yohji that he hadn’t really thought of much else in that time. Schwarz had settled into their new lives quite nicely as Kritiker’s first paranormal team. It seemed natural that they end up working with Weiss in the field, and one of their first missions had been to ferret out the remaining members of Estet.

Schuldig had loved every moment of that mission. It was the only time he could remember in which he had truly enjoyed the kill, and by the time Weiss and Schwarz had razed Estet’s ranks and destroyed the building, Schuldig’s hands had been soaked in blood. Oh, but it had been worth it. Schwarz was free now, and Schuldig had found something worth living for in Weiss’s Balinese.

But Crawford . . .

Schuldig blinked once and shook his head. Perhaps Crawford had found something worth living for, as well.

“I still think you’re nuts,” Schuldig said. He looked down at the hospital bed that took up most of the small room they were in. It contained the most important thing in Ran Fujimiya’s life. The girl was as beautiful as her brother, and Schuldig could only imagine how many hearts she would melt once she was awake and moving again.

“How so?” Crawford smirked slightly. “Don’t you think he’ll appreciate having her back?”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Schuldig said. He narrowed his eyes slightly and used his talents to tentatively push at the comatose girl’s consciousness. What he found made him gasp slightly, and his eyes went wide.

“What?” Crawford demanded.

“She’s listening to us,” Schuldig said, his lips curling into a smirk. “She’s been listening to us the whole time.” Schuldig laughed softly and shook his head in disbelief. “This isn’t going to take long at all.”

“Then get on with it,” Crawford said.

*****

She had heard them the moment they had come in, and they were arguing over her. She wasn’t sure exactly what they were arguing about, but she got the sense that it had to do with her. Aya twirled slowly in the darkness, again looking for light. It was getting easier and easier for her to find the points of light in the darkness, and Aya never ceased to search for them. She somehow knew that if she found enough light that she’d find her way back.

She’d been looking for the light for a long time now. It had frightened her at first, the darkness, but every once in a while she’d hear Ran’s voice telling her to hold on, and that he was waiting for her to find her way back to him. She learned to live with the darkness and instead found herself concentrating on listening for her brother’s voice. Sometimes the light would appear when he was there, talking to her, and she had found that once a point of light appeared and she touched it, it would stay with her. Over time more and more of it accumulated, and she had her own little spot in the darkness that was nothing but pure light.

And the more light she had, the easier it was for her to hear her brother. And he talked to her a lot. He told her things, and after a while Aya came to the conclusion that Ran must have not really believed that she could hear him, because if he had, he would have never spoken to her of the things he did. He would have never told her that he was an assassin now, nor would he have told her that he was falling in love with a man that had once been his bitter enemy. He would have never told her how much his teammates meant to him, or how much he had come to depend on them to help him through each and every day. He would have never poured out his heart to her, nor shared his joy that his friend, Yohji, had finally found someone to call his own. He would have never told her that he had killed the man that had hurt her with his own hands.

It had horrified Aya to no end, not so much because of what he was doing but because she couldn’t comfort him. She couldn’t wrap her arms around Ran and tell him that it was okay, that she still loved him and believed in him, regardless of everything that was happening in his life. She knew he was afraid of the moment when she finally woke, because he thought he was going to have to lie to her and hide the truth of his life from her.

She was looking forward to proving him wrong.

She was drawn back to the voices in the darkness above her, and felt her heart leap as she heard one of the voices clearly tell the other that she could hear them.

How did he know that? She asked herself, and for some reason she felt a rush of adrenaline.

“This isn’t going to take long at all,” The voice said, and the man sounded infinitely amused.

What wasn’t going to take long? Aya’s brows drew together in confusion.

“Then get on with it,” the second voice said.

“Right,” The first voice replied.

The darkness around her was suddenly filled with piano music. A soft sound of wonderment left her as she turned in place, trying to figure out where it was coming from. A glimmer of light caught her attention, and Aya turned and ran towards it. The music seemed to grow louder as she approached the dime sized speck of light, and she stopped right before it. It was at waist level, and she bent to touch it.

“Nani?” She exclaimed as her hand encountered a tangible surface. She bent and looked more closely, and her breath left her in a surprised gasp as she came to the conclusion that the light was coming from a hole in what, for all practical purposes, appeared to be a wall of black paper.

She’d never encountered anything solid in the blackness before. Come to think of it, she’d never heard music in the darkness, either. Her excitement was almost tangible in the darkness as she inserted her index finger into the hole and pulled. Aya had never thought that the sound of paper tearing could be so beautiful.

With a joyful cry she punched a hole through the paper with her fist and then grabbed the edges and tugged on them. The rip widened and parted, and more blessed light flooded the darkness around her, and the music grew louder still.

“Beethoven!” she exclaimed, finally recognizing the sonata for what it was. She tore at the paper some more, until a sizable hole was opened in it. The light was so bright it was almost blinding. Aya paused, trembling with excitement, and somehow knowing that her long wait in the darkness was over. She took a deep breath and stepped through the hole, her eyes shut against the sudden brightness.

“Hello, beautiful.”

Aya tried to open her eyes, and found that it was difficult to do.

“Keep trying, you’re almost there,” the voice said, the slightly nasal tenor coaxing and gentle as it spoke to her. “Let me see those eyes, sweetheart. I’ll bet they’re just as beautiful as your brother’s.”

Aya tried to speak, to tell the voice that her eyes were darker than her brother’s, but found that her mouth wouldn’t work properly, and that her throat was too dry to speak. She tried to open her eyes again, and was able to do so long enough to ascertain that it was still too bright for her, and she closed them again.

“Almost there,” the voice said again. “Keep going, Aya-chan. You’re almost there.”

It was then that Aya realized that she wasn’t trying to open her mental eyes--she was trying to open her physical eyes. The moment she came to the realization the piano music stopped, and she became aware of her actual body, the heaviness in her unused limbs and the fact that she was lying in a bed, and that there were two people sitting on either edge of it, and they were both holding her hands. She tried to flex her fingers, and she heard a surprised gasp from her left.

“She moved,” the other voice said. “She just squeezed my fingers.”

“She’s almost got it,” the first voice said. “Come on, sweetheart. Open those eyes. You can do it.”

Aya steeled herself and tried again. It seemed as if her lids weighed tons, and it was all she could do to open her eyes, but she finally managed it. It took a moment for her vision to clear enough for her to focus, but once it did she was able to make out the tiled ceiling above her. She blinked once, and then glanced to the side.

“There you are.”

Green eyes gazed down at her, joy dancing in their depths as he smiled at her.

“I thought Ran was the only redhead in Japan,” she managed to croak out, and she winced at how much it hurt to talk. The redhead holding her right hand laughed and bent to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Nope,” he returned. He looked over her, and Aya glanced to her left to look at the owner of the second voice. He was stunningly handsome, and very American, and Aya realized with a start that she knew the man from his description alone. Hadn’t Ran described him to her before, on the very same night he’d confessed that he was falling for the man?

“Hello, Aya,” the American said, and his Japanese held little accent.

“You’re Crawford, right?” she managed with a wince. It hurt to talk! She couldn’t help but smile when his eyes widened in shock.

“How did you know that?” He finally whispered.

“Ran tells me everything,” Aya said.

“Oh, ho!” The redhead said, and he sounded amused. “Everything? And you remember it all?”

“Yes,” she replied. She mustered enough strength to squeeze the redhead’s hand. “You’re Schuldig, right?”

“Indeed, I am,” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. “He has no idea, does he, that you know?”

“No,” Aya whispered. She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. She’d had more than enough dark for a lifetime. “He’s not going to like it.”

“Probably not,” Crawford agreed.

“But he’ll get over it,” Aya said. She managed another smile for the American. “Please, I want to see him. Can I see him?”

“Of course.”

*****

Yohji hummed softly to himself as he put the bow on the small box of chocolate he had just wrapped. Ran was just going to love it! Ah, how Yohji loved Christmas! He made sure the tag with Ran’s name on it was firmly attached to the gift before he left the room he and Schuldig shared and made his way to the penthouse suite’s large living room. Nagi and Omi were in the middle of roasting marshmallows over the fire, and Yohji smiled as he passed them on his way to the Christmas tree near the room’s baby grand piano.

He ran his fingers along the piano’s closed cover as he passed it, a smirk on his lips. Schuldig would play for them later, and Yohji was looking forward to it.

“Ne, quit molesting the piano!” Omi teased.

Yohji chuckled and turned to stick his tongue out at the youngest Weiss member. “You’re just jealous,” Yohji accused, laughing.

“Hardly,” Omi said with a snort. “What’s in the box?”

“Chocolate for Ran,” Yohji said.

“Mou!” Omi exclaimed. “He’s going to like your present better than mine!” Omi complained. They all knew that Ran loved chocolate.

“I’m sure he’ll like the new gloves just fine,” Yohji assured him. He bent and placed the gift amongst those already accumulated beneath the decorated tree.

“Hn,” came a snort from the doorway. “He’s going to like mine and Crawford’s best of all.”

“We’ll see,” Yohji said, still facing the tree. “Ran’s a sucker for chocolate, Schuldig.”

“Ah, Yohji?” Omi’s voice was wavering slightly, and Yohji realized with a start that the kid was fighting tears.

Yohji spun around, and just froze, not quite prepared for the sight of Aya-chan in a wheelchair, her eyes wide open and a smile on her lips. He gazed at the girl for several moments before he looked up at Schuldig and gave his lover a smirk.

“Okay,” Yohji said. “You guys win.”

******

Ran kicked the door shut behind him, slipped his shoes off, and went directly to the kitchen to deposit the two grocery bags he was carrying on the counter.

“Did you find everything we need?” Farfarello asked. He was standing at the counter dressing a turkey.

It still made Ran shake his head in disbelief every time he saw Farfarello in the kitchen, but the Irishman was an excellent cook, none the less. It was something Ran had learned over the past year, and when Farfarello had offered to help him cook their Christmas Eve dinner, Ran had readily agreed. After all, if Farfarello couldn’t handle a knife, then something was truly wrong with the world, and cooking a full dinner for eight men was no small undertaking.

“Yeah,” Ran answered. He paused long enough to remove his jacket and drape it over the back of one of the chairs at the small kitchen table before turning to unpack groceries. “Candied yams, potatoes, stuffing, and all the makings for proper sushi,” Ran said.

“Nagi will appreciate that,” Farfarello said with a nod. It was no secret that while most of them liked Western food, Nagi hated most of it.

“I bought tuna,” Ran said. “It’s his favorite, right?”

“Yes,” Farfarello returned. “Can you handle making it?”

“No problem,” Ran said. He pulled an apron on and after making sure all the ingredients Farfarello would need to make the stuffing were within the Irishman’s reach, he set about to cleaning fish. “Did Crawford and Schuldig come back from their Christmas shopping yet?”

“Yes,” Farfarello said. “And I’d say the trip was a success.”

“Oh?”

“You’ll see,” Farfarello said, and he gave one of those little smiles he always gave when he was keeping a secret.

Ran just shook his head and continued to clean fish. He had finished and was starting the rice in the cooker when Farfarello spoke again.

“When are you going to tell Crawford that you love him, Ran?”

Ran paused in pouring rice for a moment and swallowed hard. Damn that man! How had he and the rest of Weiss ever thought that Farfarello was an unobservant madman? Ran had learned that the reality of it was very much the opposite. Yes, Farfarello had mental issues (didn’t they all?), but he was far from insane and was cunningly observant.

And he had just proven it again.

“I don’t know,” Ran replied, and finished with the rice and turned the rice cooker on. “I’m not entirely sure he wants to hear it.”

“He does,” Farfarello said, his tone telling Ran that Farfarello wasn’t just guessing at Crawford’s feelings.

It made him pause, and he turned to look at Farfarello. The Irishman paused in his turkey prepping to meet his gaze with a single golden eye.

“I didn’t realize,” Ran said softly.

“It’s not surprising, really,” Farfarello said, and he graced Ran with a rare smile. “You’re always worrying about the rest of us, and your sister.”

Ran froze and his mouth was suddenly dry.

“My . . . “ He closed his mouth and swallowed before he tried again. “How did you know about her?” Ran finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“We all know about her,” Farfarello returned somberly. “Did you honestly think that no one noticed how you disappear for a few hours every night? They were worried, so Omi and Nagi followed you one night.”

“Oh,” Ran said, his tone flat. He was too busy trying to make sense of the fact that his teammates worried about him enough to follow him to be too horribly angry that they had found out about his sister.

“It’s sweet, really, that you visit her every night,” Farfarello continued, his tone serious. “Most people would have given up a long time ago.”

“She’s all I have,” Ran found himself replying, still a little shell-shocked.

“No, not really,” Farfarello said, smirking slightly. “Unless mine and the other’s friendships are unimportant to you . . .”

“No,” Ran interrupted. “They are important . . . it’s just . . .”

“What would you do, Ran, if she were to wake up?” Farfarello interrupted.

“I’m not sure she’s going to,” Ran whispered. He turned his attention back to the sushi and started to prepare vegetables to shred for rolling with the rice.

“Would you try to hide your life from her?” Farfarello asked as he started to stuff the turkey.

“I would want to,” Ran said, “But I’m not sure I could. She’s so stubborn, and she’d want to live with me. It’d be kind of hard to hide it then, wouldn’t it? And she’s so smart. She’d figure it out eventually.”

“What if you didn’t have to lie to her?” Farfarello asked.

Ran sighed and closed his eyes. “It’d be beyond my wildest dreams,” Ran finally replied after a moment. He opened his eyes and continued to work.

“You know, they say that coma patients can hear everything said to them, even though it appears they are sleeping,” Farfarello said after a moment.

“Where did you hear that?” Ran asked, frowning slightly. That was a sobering thought.

“I’ve read it in medical journals, and Schuldig has said that it’s true. He’s a telepath, you know--he’s actually communicated with coma patients before.”

Ran froze, and a moment later the knife he had been holding fell onto the counter with a soft thud.

“Dear God,” Ran whispered.

“Ran?” Farfarello had paused in his work and was looking at him with concern. “Ran, what’s wrong?”

“I’ve been telling her everything,” Ran finally managed. He turned to look at Farfarello with wide eyes, and he felt panic welling within him. “What if she did hear everything? What if she’s repulsed by me now? What if . . .”

“What if I don’t give a damn about any of that?”

Ran went very still at the sound of her voice from the doorway, and he locked gazes with Farfarello. The Irishman was smiling softly at him and nodded slowly in answer to the unasked question in Ran’s eyes. Ran’s eyes filled with tears as he turned to look at her.

“Aya!” Her name left his lips in a puff of air, and more tears fell as he took in the sight of her. She seemed small in the wheelchair, and her skin was pale from years of not seeing the sun, but she was awake, and she was smiling up at him with love in her eyes, and she was quite simply the most wonderful thing Ran had ever seen in his life.

“Hi, Aniki,” Aya said, and she was shedding tears, too. “You’ve grown a lot since the last time I saw you. You’re not a little boy anymore.”

“No,” Ran agreed, and he forced his feet to move him across the room. He knelt in front of the chair and took her hands into his own and leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead. A puff of tear-filled joyous laughter left him, and he kissed her again. “Aya! How is this possible! How?” He hugged her close and held her tight. “How?”

“Schuldig,” Aya said, and she was laughing now, too. She reached up to touch his face, her mouth set in a wide grin. “Schuldig showed me the way out.”

“I’m afraid I can’t take all the credit,” Schuldig said as he stepped into the kitchen. “It was Crawford’s idea, after all. You know how he is,” Schuldig said with a grin. “Don’t ask me why, but we’ve all been kind of trying to one-up each other with our Christmas gifts for you, and Crawford, as usual, rose to the challenge. Always did like a challenge, our Crawford.”

“He wins,” Farfarello said with a snort of laughter.

“Oh, yes he does,” Ran whispered. He kissed Aya’s forehead one last time before he stood and unceremoniously wrapped Schuldig in a sudden hug. “But you come in a close second. Where’s Crawford?”

“In the living room roasting marshmallows with Nagi and Omi, believe it or not,” Schuldig said as Ran released him from the impromptu sign of affection. The German had a bemused expression on his face, and Ran felt laughter bubbling within him again.

Ran looked down at his sister, and she grinned at him.

“I’m going to stay right here and talk with Farfarello for a bit,” she said. She reached out and took Ran’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Go get him, Ran. And tell him, Aniki. Tell him that you love him.”

*****

“Nervous?” Yohji asked.

Crawford looked up as the blonde settled himself next to Nagi and Omi and snagged himself a marshmallow from the bag on the floor.

“Yes,” Crawford admitted.

“Well, she’s been in the kitchen with them for a full five minutes and I haven’t heard Schuldig scream for help yet,” Yohji said with a wry smile. “I’m sure it’s all going to turn out fine. Ran’s going to be so happy to see her awake that he’s not going to care about much else. Of course, you’re more nervous about the fact that this pretty much makes how you feel for him blatantly obvious.”

“Not much for beating around the bush, are you Kudoh?” Crawford smirked as he pulled the marshmallow he had been roasting away from the fire and pulled a charred layer off of it and quickly ate it. “That’s number seven,” Crawford told Omi.

“Damn it! How do you do that?” Omi whined. “The best I can do is four!”

“Lots of practice,” Crawford said as he licked the rest of the marshmallow from the end of the stick. He was pretty sure he could have gotten another layer out of it, but what was the point when the competition could only do four? He sighed and set the stick on the hearth before turning his attention back to Yohji.

The blonde was chewing thoughtfully on the marshmallow he had snagged and looking into the fire. “You don’t have anything to worry about, you know,” Yohji said, his voice slightly muffled from the marshmallow he was chewing.

“Easy for you to say,” Crawford said. “Do you always talk with your mouth full?”

Yohji’s expression became rather devilish. “Ask Schuldig.”

“Thank you so very much for taking us there, Yohji!” Omi exclaimed as Nagi made gagging noises. “I so did NOT need that image!”

Incoming!

All four of them abruptly fell quiet as Schuldig’s voice echoed in their minds, and sure enough, a moment later Ran appeared in the living room.

Crawford felt his breath catch when Ran’s amethyst gaze turned to him, and he was dimly aware of the others scattering to the four winds when the redhead stalked across the room towards him.

“You,” Ran said, his voice low. “You’ve been very, very busy, Brad Crawford.”

“Oh?” Crawford managed.

He quite suddenly found himself on his back on the carpet with Ran straddling him and looking down at him with heated eyes. There was a smile playing around the corners of the Weiss assassin’s lips.

“Farfarello tells me that you’d like it if I told you that I love you,” Ran said.

“Oh, he does?” Crawford said, sounding much more suave than he currently felt. “Do you?”

Ran bent down suddenly and meshed their lips together in a kiss that was neither gentle nor chaste. Crawford groaned and reached up to wrap his arms around Ran’s shoulders as the redhead all but devoured him.

“Yes,” Ran whispered as he finally broke the kiss, his voice a bit breathless. “I love you.”

“No, shit, really?” Yohji quipped from where he was sitting on the couch.

“Shut up, Kudoh,” Ran growled, but his eyes were dancing with laughter as he looked over at the blonde. “Did I give you shit when you got together with Schuldig?”

“Well, no,” Yohji said, and he was grinning from ear to ear. “But we expect that kind of behavior from me!”

“You have to admit, that was a bit surprising coming from you, Ran” Omi said as he snickered.

“Shut up, Omi,” Crawford said before he pulled Ran down for another kiss. They were breathless again when they parted from that second kiss, and Crawford smiled up at the man. “I love you, too.”

“Well, duh!” Yohji said.

Crawford’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he saw an answering expression in Ran’s eyes.

I happen to know that Yohji’s ribs are extremely ticklish, Schuldig told them both. Go for it. As much as I love him, he’s really being prick right now. Tickle torture should fix the problem.

Ran arched a crimson bow and glanced at Yohji before looking down at Crawford with a question in his eyes. Should we? he seemed to be asking.

“Hell yes,” Crawford said. Ran was quick to let him up from the floor, and they turned as one to pin Yohji to the couch with un-amused glares.

“Um, guys?” Yohji pressed himself into the couch as Crawford and Ran advanced on him. “I was kidding! You know that, right? Um, guys?”

“You’ll never learn, Kudoh,” Ran said with an evil smirk. “You have to be punished now.”

“Yes,” Crawford agreed.

“Punished?” Yohji swallowed nervously.

“Schuldig tells me your ribs are ticklish,” Crawford said coolly.

Yohji’s expression turned to one of pure, comical horror. Yohji barely had time to mutter an “Oh, fuck!” before Crawford and Ran were upon him.

*****

Ran moaned softly as Crawford moved above him, and he reached up to pull the man down for yet another kiss as the American made love to him. He’d lost count as to just how many kisses they had exchanged since their first two earlier in the evening. Crawford had kept stealing them from him all through-out dinner, and Ran hadn’t really put up much of a fight. How could he when the kisses were so good and he had wanted them for so long anyway?

Ran gasped softly as Crawford brought him to completion for the second time that evening. Crawford’s sharp intake of breath was the only indicator that Ran had that Crawford had found his own completion, and Ran smiled softly as the American collapsed onto him.

“Nice,” Ran murmured as he ran his fingers through Crawford’s dark hair.

There was a slight murmur of agreement from the man, although Crawford did not stir from where his cheek rested against Ran’s sternum.

“Tired?” Ran asked, smirking slightly and his fingers still carding through Crawford’s fine hair.

“Hm, wonder why?” Crawford murmured sleepily. “I’m going to have to start running in the morning again. It’s the only way I’m going to be able to keep up with you.”

Ran laughed out loud and Crawford finally lifted his head from where it rested on Ran’s chest and smiled down at Ran.

“I promise to not be so demanding in the future,” Ran said, still chuckling.

“Oh, no,” Crawford said. “You’re not demanding at all,” Crawford assured him before shifting to kiss Ran breathless. “I assure you, Ran, the pleasure was all mine.”

“Hardly,” Ran retorted in a breathless whisper.

Crawford chuckled softly as he shifted and rose from the bed. He disappeared into the small bathroom directly off his room and came back a moment later with a warm washcloth. He quickly cleaned them both up before chucking the washcloth into the dirty clothes hamper and rejoining Ran in bed.

“Love you,” Ran whispered as he settled himself against Crawford’s side. “Thank you, Crawford.”

“For what?” Crawford asked.

“For Aya,” Ran said. “And for loving me. I know that I’m not the warmest of people . . .”

“Oh, you’re warm enough,” Crawford purred, his embrace tightening around Ran. “Besides, I suspect that it will become quite apparent to everyone, now that you’ve got Aya back. I have a strong feeling that she’s going to bring out the best in all of us. She’s such a shining light in our world, don’t you think?”

“Aa,” Ran agreed. “I’m still not sure I like her being in our world . . .”

“It’s not your decision to make,” Crawford interrupted, and not unkindly. “She’s an adult, Ran, and it was her decision to stay here with us. At least here we know she’s safe. I’m not sure I’d trust anyone else to watch over her.”

“I know,” Ran said. “Me either . . .”

“Then stop fretting,” Crawford said.

Ran sighed and let himself relax into the American’s warm embrace. Even if he’d wanted to send Aya away, it was too late. She already knew everything about their lives, and Ran was much too happy to have her back to care much about that anyway.

“Merry Christmas,” Ran whispered as he closed his eyes.

“Merry Christmas,” Crawford replied.

They settled in, then, and very soon both drifted off to sleep.

*****

Schuldig?

Yes?

Is Ran okay?

Yes, Aya-chan, Ran is fine. Crawford’s taken very good care of him this evening.

I’ll just bet he has!

Does your brother know what a hentai you are, chibi?

No, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll not tell him!

I wouldn’t dream of it, Aya-chan. Are you comfortable?

Yes. Ran’s room is warm, and I’ve the window shades open. It’s snowing.

Is it?

Yeah. Looks like we get a white Christmas this year . . .

Yeah, I guess so. Aya, are you okay?

I am. I just . . . well, thank you, Schuldig. Thank you for showing me the way.

You are more than welcome, beautiful. Get some rest, okay?

Hai. Merry Christmas, Schuldig.

Merry Christmas.

*****

Schuldig played the piano softly, his fingers picking out the notes of White Christmas almost lazily. The others had long since gone to bed, and it was he and Yohji in the large living room. Yohji lying on his stomach on the closed lid of the piano, his arms crossed beneath his chin and his eyes closed. The blonde was drifting in and out of consciousness, his lips curled in a slight smile. He was so beautiful lying there, and Schuldig felt his chest tighten with emotion and thanked God yet again that Yohji was his.

Schuldig finished the piece and leaned forward to press a kiss to Yohji’s forehead.

“Ne, wake up sleepy. It’s time to go to bed,” Schuldig whispered.

“Hm?” Yohji’s green eyes fluttered open and he blinked slowly at Schuldig. “Done playing?”

“For tonight, yes,” Schuldig said. “Everyone’s already gone to bed, which is where you should be right now.” Schuldig stood from the bench and helped Yohji from the piano.

“I’m still mad that you told them about my ribs,” Yohji said, not really sounding angry at all.

“You were being mean,” Schuldig said with a shrug. “I promise to make it up to you tomorrow night.”

“What about tonight?” Yohji asked, and he stifled a yawn.

“You’re too tired, Yohji-kun,” Schuldig said, his expression fond as he led his lover to their room. “And I need to keep my concentration focused on Aya-chan should she need anything this evening. She’s still too weak to move about on her own.”

“I know,” Yohji said. “Cuddle with me, then?”

“Of course,” Schuldig whispered as he shut the door to their room and turned to kiss the blonde. He helped Yohji undress before doing the same for himself, and by the time he joined the blonde in the bed, Yohji was fast asleep. Schuldig gathered him close and pulled the covers up and around them, sighing contentedly as their shared warmth permeated the bed and wrapped them in a comfortable cocoon.

Schuldig closed his eyes and systematically ’peeked’ into every room in the apartment, and found that he was the only one still awake. The others were sleeping peacefully or at least experiencing pleasant dreams, and Schuldig found himself smiling as he thought of the old rhyme.

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Schuldig let himself relax into the bed, and he had one last coherent thought before he let sleep claim him.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

*****

End
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The Piano Trilogy