Strange Times
folder
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
50
Views:
4,174
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
50
Views:
4,174
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
22
Aya only had a chance to ruin one arrangement and frighten off two customers before Yohji, in a stunning bit of responsibility, declared him unfit to work and ordered him off the sales floor. It only took him a handful of minutes more to realize Ken had just volunteered to handle deliveries. Leaving Aya with nothing to do but skulk about or give it up and go home.
Dismissed. He was being dismissed. Removed in an infuriating act of distrustful territorialism. Even when not actively present, Schuldich was intent on ruining his life. Aya wasn’t retreating as he hung his apron and snagged his coat as he stalked out the door. He was making a tactical decision. Weiss matters would be sorted out when the rational one got out of class.
Now was time to deal with the bane of his existence, the death of his common sense and what remained of his battered morals. He didn’t notice the midafternoon crowd he walked through, his mindset having shifted into mission, and the people around him did not figure into his plans. His apartment, when he slipped through the front door, was empty. A tight smile curled Aya’s lips as he retrieved his katana and settled into a kitchen chair, moved to directly face the door, and waited for Schuldich to come home.
___________
‘Home later’ could mean many things. It could have implied a stop at the convenience store, a visit to the park, or an aimless walk around a city filled with brains too small too think about anything interesting. Schuldich whistled, pointedly off tune, and wandered directly through a group of idiots busy lounging with overdone testosterone, pretending not to notice the gaggle of girls across the street eyeing their tattooed flexing. The idiots growled comments about fags, and Schuldich was pretty sure they weren’t offering him a smoke.
Schuldich dodged the first punch with some of his old flair, hair flying, eyes laughing, and then threw one of his own. Nothing like a bit of a brawl to make up for the bruise Balinese had left on his face. Mistake him for a target, would they? Schuldich wove his laughter through their fury, his own personal brand of stress relief. It was a bullfight, his long hair the red flag they were intent on charging. Large and lumbering, they were at the perfect disadvantage to make Schuldich feel better about his own plethora of mundane and arcane skills.
Ego reaffirmed and re-inflated back into its familiarly daunting scope, Schuldich calmly wiped himself from the minds of the enraged idiots and sauntered off, chuckling at their confusion. Wouldn’t Aya be pleased? His bit of temper had only resulted in a few black eyes and a bit of confusion. No one was bleeding, apart from one split lip, and no one was dead. Schuldich smiled.
Now he was ready to go home.
Dismissed. He was being dismissed. Removed in an infuriating act of distrustful territorialism. Even when not actively present, Schuldich was intent on ruining his life. Aya wasn’t retreating as he hung his apron and snagged his coat as he stalked out the door. He was making a tactical decision. Weiss matters would be sorted out when the rational one got out of class.
Now was time to deal with the bane of his existence, the death of his common sense and what remained of his battered morals. He didn’t notice the midafternoon crowd he walked through, his mindset having shifted into mission, and the people around him did not figure into his plans. His apartment, when he slipped through the front door, was empty. A tight smile curled Aya’s lips as he retrieved his katana and settled into a kitchen chair, moved to directly face the door, and waited for Schuldich to come home.
___________
‘Home later’ could mean many things. It could have implied a stop at the convenience store, a visit to the park, or an aimless walk around a city filled with brains too small too think about anything interesting. Schuldich whistled, pointedly off tune, and wandered directly through a group of idiots busy lounging with overdone testosterone, pretending not to notice the gaggle of girls across the street eyeing their tattooed flexing. The idiots growled comments about fags, and Schuldich was pretty sure they weren’t offering him a smoke.
Schuldich dodged the first punch with some of his old flair, hair flying, eyes laughing, and then threw one of his own. Nothing like a bit of a brawl to make up for the bruise Balinese had left on his face. Mistake him for a target, would they? Schuldich wove his laughter through their fury, his own personal brand of stress relief. It was a bullfight, his long hair the red flag they were intent on charging. Large and lumbering, they were at the perfect disadvantage to make Schuldich feel better about his own plethora of mundane and arcane skills.
Ego reaffirmed and re-inflated back into its familiarly daunting scope, Schuldich calmly wiped himself from the minds of the enraged idiots and sauntered off, chuckling at their confusion. Wouldn’t Aya be pleased? His bit of temper had only resulted in a few black eyes and a bit of confusion. No one was bleeding, apart from one split lip, and no one was dead. Schuldich smiled.
Now he was ready to go home.